


What do you want, Peter Parker?

by Neuropsyche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Complete, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Dark Tony Stark, Happy Ending, Infidelity, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Peter is Spiderman, Starker, Tony is Ironman, Underage Sex, slowburn, tony ADORES peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-14 21:06:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 44
Words: 67,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18060137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche
Summary: The heart wants what the heart wants - but it will only be given freely and cannot be taken. Especially if you're a superhero in the making





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be graphic and not for anyone not interested in reading anything that is marked. Comments are welcomed, but don't be hating. Constructive criticism is fine and suggestions, of course. Please, please, please, remember that this is FICTION. And, of course, I'm not making any money off the use of any of the characters, as I did not create them

Peter stared up at the building for a long time, standing on the sidewalk in front of the main entrance. The doorman watched, impatiently, wondering what the scrawny kid was up to, in the first place. It was possible – and probable – that the boy was hoping to catch a glimpse of Ironman, taking off or coming in for a landing, but this time of day it was unlikely. Stark was in the building, but the doorman knew that he would be there for several more hours, at least, and later would be a better time for gawking.

As he watched, the boy took a visibly deep breath and walked toward the door. The doorman opened it, politely. He was a professional, after all.

“Can I help you, son?”

The boy flushed, slightly, unable to hide a surge of excitement for what he was about to say.

“I have an appointment with Mr. Stark.”

“You do?”

Peter grinned.

“Yeah.”

“Check in with the main desk,” the man told him, pointing at a huge marble monstrosity manned by three neatly dressed women. “They’ll issue you a badge and let Mr. Stark know you’re here.”

“Thanks.”

“Good luck.”

Peter walked across the lobby and to the desk he’d been directed to and waited respectfully for one of the women to notice him. The one on the right looked up and smiled, warmly.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi. Yeah.” He stepped up to stand in front of her. “I have an appointment with Mr. Stark.”

“Your name, please?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.”

She glanced down at a high tech monitor that was clearly touch sensitive, since he didn’t hear any clicking from any keyboard.

“There you are.” The woman hit a square on the screen, still looking down, and then she held up her hand and waved her pointer finger. “Look at my finger, please.”

When he did there was a very soft sound of a shutter – probably one that wouldn’t be heard at all, normally, but he heard it because he heard everything. A moment longer, and she reached down under the counter, fiddled with something for a moment and then straightened up and handed him a security badge that had his picture on it, as well as his name, and several barcodes that meant nothing to him.

“I’ve let Mr. Stark know you’re here, Mr. Parker. You can use the elevator there.”

She pointed toward one to their right. A small one compared to the other bank of them, where several people were clearly waiting.

“Thank you,” he said, with another excited smile.

“My pleasure. Put your badge on, please, while you’re in the building.”

Peter nodded and pinned the badge to his shirt while walking over to the elevator. He hit the only button there was to summon it and realized that the woman hadn’t told him what floor to press. He started to turn, to go back and ask her, but the bell dinged, and the door opened. He decided to just get on and start at the top and work his way down.

It turned out to not be an issue. When he went into the elevator, he saw that there was only one button to push and he did so. The moment he did, a blue light came from a control panel on the wall, scanning him, but focusing on the badge for a moment. Then the car moved, heading up – although Peter had no idea what floor he was heading toward, or where it would stop.

After a long moment – he calculated the estimated speed of the elevator by the amount of floors and the time it would take to make each and decided that it was probably not right at the top – the car stopped with another ding, and the door opened.

He peeked out, but it wasn't a hallway that the door opened into. It was what looked like a living room, or maybe a lounge, considering the full sized bar that ran the length of the far wall. Standing behind it, impatiently looking at a coffee pot was Tony Stark, and Peter felt another rush of excitement – and a lot of nervousness.

“Come on out, Peter,” Stark said to him, gesturing for him to come over to the bar. “I’m just making a cup of coffee.”

Peter walked over, looking around with a certain amount of awe. The place was immaculate and immense and just reeked of expensive and good taste.

“Huh… hello.”

Stark smiled.

“Hey. Something to drink?”

“What? Oh.” For a moment, Peter thought he was being offered alcohol, and then blushed at his own stupidity. “Yeah. A Coke, if you have one, or any kind of cola. Thanks.”

Stark turned and leaned over to open a miniature fridge, and Peter saw that he was wearing a very expensive looking suit, and tennis shoes instead of dress shoes. He came up with a bottle in his hand, used an opener to pop it, and handed it across the bar to him.

“So.” His expression was tight, his glaze intent as he studied Peter, who flushed at the sudden force of will he felt coming off the man. “Peter Parker. Winner of my own little contest. Spend the day with Tony Stark.”

Peter smiled.

“You forgot the part where I try to convince you to let me fill the intern spot.”

Stark looked surprised by the cheekiness, and gave him a tight smile, before pouring his cup of coffee and then walking around the bar, his intense gaze looking Peter up and down. He stopped uncomfortably close to the boy, face to face with him, eyes locked on his.

“Do you _want_ to be an intern here, Peter?”

“Yeah. Of course. Who wouldn’t?”

“It’s a demanding job, with very few benefits.”

“Working under you would look good on a college application, though.”

The expression changed a little, and Peter felt himself blushing.

“Do you _want_ to work _under_ me?” he asked. “I can be demanding.”

“Oh.” Peter hesitated, feeling that there was definitely a double meaning there, and uncertain if the older man meant what he was making it sound like he meant. “Yeah. I’d be okay with that. I’m a hard worker, and I learn fast.”

“No experience?”

Again with the double meaning. Now Peter was certain of it. He blushed, again, trying to force it down but failing.

“No.”

“So I would get to _train_ you,” Stark said, practically purring as he set his coffee cup down and brushed his hand along Peter’s side. “Mold you. Teach you.”

“Uh. Yeah.”

Peter held himself still, but he trembled just a little in reaction to the heated look in Stark’s expression as the man moved the hand from Peter’s side to his chest, and then watched the boy’s expression as his hand sank lower and brushed the front of his jeans, stopping to rest on the slight bulge and smiling when it suddenly twitched and grew a bit under his palm.

“How do you like that…” Stark murmured.

He leaned forward, and with his hand still in place, he brushed a kiss against Peter’s lips. A gentle, tender kiss that made Peter sigh, softly, and close his eyes, feeling himself getting even harder and torn between an odd rush of desire and embarrassment at having someone be so forward with him. Suddenly, though, he gasped when Stark bit his lip.

_Hard_.

Peter jerked away, startled, but Tony stepped right up against him, not relinquishing his hold on the bulge in Peter’s jeans.

“I’m very demanding, Peter,” He said, caressing him. “And strict with my… interns. What I say goes. No matter what it is. Or how much it hurts.”

Peter closed his eyes, enjoying the caress more than he really cared to admit. Then he opened them, again, when Stark reached for the button on his jeans.

“Shall we see what you’ve got to work with?” he asked, undoing Peter’s jeans, and lowering the zipper.

Peter felt his mouth go dry and wished for a drink of the Coke Stark had handed him. It was still in his hand, but he didn’t think it would be the right time to take a drink; not when Stark’s hand was now reaching into his boxers and pulling our his incredibly hard cock.

He whimpered, softly, as the older man began stroking him, and Stark leaned over to kiss him, again. And he bit his lip – again.

Peter stepped back, moving his head away, and at the same time pulling himself from Stark’s grasp.

“Don’t move away from me like that,” Stark said, stepping up, again. “My internship, Peter. _My_ rules. Take it or leave it.”

Peter licked his bleeding lip, easily reading the lust in Stark’s expression and feeling his own echoing it. He shook his head, though, and set the Coke bottle on the bar before stuffing himself awkwardly back into his pants.

“I think I’ll have to leave it,” he said, feeling a great rush of disappointment in more than one way.

Turning down the internship was crazy. What would May think, if she found out? Turning down the chance to have a relationship with someone who was obviously experienced and wanted him was crazy, too. But Peter didn’t like the price – or the consequences.

“What?”

“I appreciate your time, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, clearing his throat. “But I’m going to have to pass.”

He turned, then, before Stark could say or do anything, and headed for the elevator. It closed before the man had a chance to do anything more than stare at his retreating back.

 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No wasn't the answer that Tony expected - or wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not read if underage - consensual sex offends you

By the time he’d made his way all the way from the tower to the apartment that he shared with May, Peter was feeling a little more stable about the whole thing with Mr. Stark. Yeah, the guy was sexy, and yes, he was _definitely_ attracted to him, but there was also that undercurrent of darkness – maybe? – that Peter thought might be lurking in his expression. He didn’t set off his Spider senses or anything like that, but it had made him uncomfortable.

Or maybe that discomfort was the fact that _Stark_ had seemed to know exactly what he’d wanted, and Peter didn’t have a clue.

He let himself into the apartment, still trying to figure out a good excuse to give to May, to explain why he wasn't spending the day with Tony Stark – which had been all that he’d been talking about for the past three weeks. Maybe he’d tell her that he didn’t feel good. Or maybe that Stark had been forced to reschedule. The guy was _Ironman_ , after all. Things probably came up all the time, right? Maybe he could just-

He stopped when he turned around. His excuses freezing in his mind, the easiest of them dying before it even started when he saw May on the couch – with Tony Stark sitting easily beside her, obviously charming her by the amused expression on her face when she turned at his entrance.

“Peter! Where have you been?" She asked. “Tony here has been waiting almost half an hour for you.”

“Oh.” He looked at May, and then at Stark, who was still wearing the expensive suit, but had changed into dress shoes, now. “I… uh… I had to take the bus. How long – I mean... What are _you_ doing here?”

“We have some unfinished business, Mr. Parker,” Stark told him, smoothly. “As I was telling your aunt. You left before I could make my final pitch.”

Peter frowned.

“Yeah. I thought you made it pretty _clear_ …”

“You must have misheard me, or something.” He looked at May and winked. “ _Kids_ , am I right? Never stop to listen, anymore. Too eager to put their headphones in their ears.”

May chuckled.

“He’s a good listener, most of the time.”

“Do you mind if I borrow him for a few minutes? Alone?”

“No, of course not. As a matter of fact, now that Peter’s here, I need to run to the store. That should give you boys plenty of time to finish your negotiations.”

May stood up, picked up her purse and pressed a kiss against Peter’s cheek on her way by.

“He’s cute,” she whispered as she did. “And he smells _amazing_.”

Peter turned and watched her leave, the door closing solidly behind her. Then he turned to look at Stark.

“What… I mean. We pretty much finished our discussion,” he said.

“No. _You_ finished it. I was still talking.” Stark stood up. “I can’t _believe_ you walked out on me like that. Are you out of your _mind_?”

“No.”

“Then what? I thought we were making progress…”

Peter frowned.

“We _were_. Until you bit me.”

“You didn’t like it?” Stark asked, walking over and locking the door – and then putting up the chain for good measure.

“No.”

“Not even a _little_?”

“No. It hurt.”

“Have you ever tried it?” he murmured, his face right up to Peter’s, his eyes hungry.

“You _bit_ me,” Peter reminded him, again.

“You keep _saying_ that,” Stark said, exasperated, moving away from the boy and throwing himself down on the sofa. “So what?”

“It hurt.”

“So? It was _supposed_ to hurt, Peter. That’s how you know you’re alive. By feeling pain. By _experiencing_ it. Turning the pain into pleasure.”

Peter turned away, moving to the fridge.

“I’ve felt pain, before. I’ve had enough of it to know that there’s no pleasure in it and I’ll never want to actively go looking for it.”

The boy opened the fridge to hide his very real vulnerability, just then. The reminder of the people he lost, the pain that he’d had. It cut through him and seemed to twist his stomach into knots. He waited a moment, tom make sure he had himself under control and closed the door and turned to find that Stark had gotten up off the couch and joined him in the kitchen, leaning against a counter.

“I’m sorry,” he said, softly. “I didn’t even think about that.”

Peter shook his head.

“It’s alright.”

“No.” Stark reached out and touched Peter’s cheek, his hand gentle, his gaze soft and warm. “It was thoughtless of me. I know your history, and should have considered that. Let’s start over, alright?”

“What do you mean?”

Tony brushed a tender kiss against the boy’s lips, and then took his hand and led him to the sofa, pressing him down to sit on it before joining him. He was close, but not quite touching.

“I’m Tony Stark.”

“I _know_.”

Stark rolled his eyes.

“Jesus... You're _supposed_ to say you're Peter Parker.”

“You already know- _oh_. Sorry. I’m Peter Parker.”

“Good to meet you. So, you’re interested in working under me?”

“No. I mean. _Maybe_.”

“You _were_ interested, but now you're not as interested as you were before?”

“Yes.”

Stark frowned, taking Peter’s hand and holding it against his chest.

“Well, that’s unfortunate, Peter,” he said. “Because I’m more interested in having you under me than ever. So we’re going to have to come to some kind of understanding.”

“We don’t seem to want the same things.”

“What do you want?”

“From the internship?”

“From _me_.”

“I don’t want pain.”

“Okay. But what do you _want_? A mentor? A teacher? A _lover_?”

Now the hand brought Peter’s down to Stark’s lap, and it was easy to feel the soft swelling under the light fabric of his suit. Peter hesitated, and then brushed his hand against that bulge, excited by the way it grew with just a simple caress.

“ _All_ of those,” he admitted. “But on my own terms.”

Stark’s hand moved to open his pants and pull his semi-erect cock free, bringing Peter’s hand to it.

“What _terms_? You don’t know what you even like or what you don’t like. How _can_ you?” he asked, his breath catching as Peter’s hand slowly stroked him. “You haven’t experienced it to know how good it is.”

“So teach me,” Peter told him, his eyes on Stark’s. “But don’t _hurt_ me.”

“Can I tie you up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can I spank you?”

“No.”

“If I tied you up, I might forget myself and want to spank you.” Stark’s hips were rocking, slowly, now, in time to Peter’s motion.

“Then we’d be done,” Peter said.

“I’m _Ironman_.”

Peter smiled.

“I know. But you couldn’t hold me if I didn’t want to be held – and you couldn’t spank me, if I didn’t want you to. Not after the first time.”

“Because you’re the Spider-man…”

Peter’s hand stopped, his face paled.

“How-“

“ _Don’t_ stop, Peter…” Stark grunted, his hand covering the boy’s and forcing it to move. He was solid, now, and feeling the pleasure of the innocence of Peter’s touch like nothing he’d felt in a very long time. Maybe not ever. “I know because that’s what I _do_. I know thing. Secrets. I find something that I’m interested in and I learn more about it. In this case. _You_. Why do you think I sought you out in the _first place_? Why else would I make up a contest to spend the day with me and then rig it so you won?"

“You can’t tell _anyone_ , Mr. Stark.”

“Well, then to be fair, you can’t tell anyone what really goes on in our internship. It would definitely ruin my day…”

“You really want me to be your intern?” Peter asked.

“Yes, Peter. I really do. As an intern, as a _lover_ , you could learn a lot from me. I could probably learn a few things from you, as well.”

“When does it start?”

Stark smiled, his hips rocking once more.

“It’s already started. Bend over and put your mouth where your hand is.”

The boy hesitated, but then did as he was told and leaned over, his lips opening to take Stark’s throbbing cock into his mouth. He felt the man put his hand on the back of his head, but didn’t feel any pressure and knew that he was being careful not to force him, or to scare him. Peter appreciated it. Enough so that he fell to with eagerness, trying very hard to make it enjoyable – even though he’d never sucked another man before.

It didn’t take long. Peter was short on technique but big on enthusiasm, and Stark was now thrusting his hips, forcing Peter to take more and more of his girth into his mouth. Peter tried, but he gagged when the throbbing head hit the back of his throat and to his credit, felt Stark pull back rather than press the issue.

“You okay?” he heard the older man asked, huskily, and the hand that had been on his head brushed his cheek.

Peter nodded and continued what he was doing, determined to please him, anxious to show Mr. Stark that just because he wasn't interested in some of the things they’d talked about, it didn’t mean he wasn't interested at all.

The cock in his mouth suddenly tensed at the same time Tony did, and with a grunt Stark jerked his hips once more and Peter felt the cum suddenly filling his mouth. He was surprised by how it felt – and how it tasted, and hesitated.

“Swallow it, Peter,” Stark ordered, holding the boy’s head still while he jerked his hips in time with each new stream of cum that shot into the boy’s mouth. “Oh, Jesus… yess.”

Peter did as he was told, and even though he choked a little initially, he swallowed everything Stark gave him, and even used his tongue to clean him off when he was finished. Only then did he look up, suddenly shy and nervous – uncertain how he’d done.

Tony Stark read his expression perfectly, and pulled the boy into his arms, holding him tightly and kissing him hungrily, tasting himself on Peter’s lips – and not once even giving serious consideration to the idea of biting those wonderfully swollen lips.

“Well done, Peter,” he murmured with a satisfied sigh. He pulled away just enough to put his cock back into his pants, and smiled. “How far away is this store?” he asked. “Do we have time to continue this conversation?”

Peter shrugged, excited at the prospect of going further, and doing more.

“We can _try_. Or we can go somewhere else, if you’d prefer. I took the day off from school to spend with you, remember? May wouldn’t care.”

“Perfect.” He stood up and offered the boy a hand to get him up, as well. He then slid his hand possesively along the bulge that was adorning the front of Peter’s jeans. “Write your aunt a note, telling her you’ll be back late,” he suggested. “Then we’ll go take care of this.”

“Yes, sir.”


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The internship continues in a more private setting

“Where are we going?” Peter asked as he buckled his seatbelt a few minutes later. 

“I have an apartment in the city,” Stark replied, starting the car. “We’ll go there.” He looked over at Peter. “I have a _house_ , too, but it’s further away, and I don’t care for the idea of waiting that long.” 

Peter nodded his agreement, and watched as the older man put the car into gear, his hand caressing the stick shift in a manner that mesmerized Peter, and made him squirm just a little in his seat. He wondered if he was doing it on purpose, but didn’t ask. Instead, he turned to the topic of the internship. 

“What do you expect from me?” he asked. “For the _internship_ , I mean.” 

“Obedience,” came the immediate reply. “I tell you to do something, I expect it to get done. If you aren’t sure how to do it, then ask.” He glanced over at the boy for a moment before turning back to traffic. “Just so you know, that’s what I expect in _all_ aspects of our relationship – professional and personal. If I tell you to do something, I want you to do it. Understood?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

The drive wasn't long, and they only discussed the internship on the way, although Peter was rock hard by the time Stark pulled the car into the parking garage of an upscale apartment building and parked next to yet another private elevator. The man smiled, amused, and leaned over and brushed his hand against the painful bulge in Peter’s jeans. 

“I think you’re looking forward to this,” he teased, gently. 

“I am, Mr. Stark.” 

He held his breath, then, when Stark kissed him, heatedly, and then pulled back and met his eyes. The older man’s expression was unreadable, but the hand was still caressing him, delightfully. 

“When we’re alone, you can call me Tony, Peter,” he told him. “When anyone else is around, though, it’s back to Mr. Stark. Got it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. Come on.” 

They got out of the car and walked to the elevator. Tony stood close to Peter but didn’t touch him the entire ride up – to the penthouse, Peter noticed without surprise. When the door opened, however, Stark’s hand went to the small of Peter’s back, to guide him off the elevator and into the living room – which was even more impressive than the one at the tower. 

Tony cupped his cheek and held him still long enough to kiss him, again, his tongue demanding access and Peter obliging without hesitation. Stark’s teeth brushed the boy’s lip, but he didn’t bite him, and he licked the spot tenderly before pulling away. 

“Make yourself at home, Peter,” he murmured. “I’m going to go make sure we’re not disturbed. 

“Okay.” 

Nervous and excited, the boy moved over to the couch. It was leather and huge, and he sat down on the arm instead of on a cushion so he could watch as Stark pulled out his phone and made a couple of quick phone calls. Then watched him take his jacket off and drape it over a chair and walk back over. 

“You don’t look at home,” Tony told him, parting Peter’s knees when he stood in front of him, so he could press up against him. “Nervous?” 

“A little.” 

“ _Excited_?” he asked, looking down at the boy’s lap. 

“Yes.”

 “That’s a good start.” He ran his fingers along the pale cheek, and then down to the boy’s jaw and his neck, but stopped at his shirt. “Do you know what a safe word is?” 

“Yes. It tells you to stop what you’re doing.” 

“Do you have one?” He asked, assuming he knew the answer. 

“No.” 

“We need one. Something completely unrelated to anything we might be doing, to make sure there is no confusion.” 

_“Ironman?”_  

Tony smiled.

 “No. We might want to roleplay – and that would not work out.”

 “Bugle?”

 “That will work.” He took off his shirt and let it fall to the floor. “What’s your safe word, Peter?”

 “Bugle.”

 “Good. Take your shirt off.”

 The boy did as he was told, while Stark watched him, and Tony leaned down and teased first one nipple, and then the other, into hardness. His mouth followed and Peter gasped in pleasure when the man blew gently on each, then suckled them tenderly. His hand went into the $500-dollar haircut and his fingers curled, eliciting an amused chuckle from Stark.

 “Liked that, did you?”

 “Yes.”

 "What’s your safe word?”

 “What?”

 Tony pulled back, frowning.

 “Hey. When I ask, you tell me, all right? It’s _important_.”

 “I’m _sorry_ ,” Peter told him, flushing. “I just-“

 “You just got caught up in things…”

 “Yeah.”

 “That’s when it’s most important for you to remember what it is,” Stark told him, seriously. “If I’m doing something, and I get too rough for you, I won’t stop unless you use that word. If I don’t hear it, then I’m going to think that you’re loving it, and all the begging in the world won’t make me stop doing what I’m doing. Only your safe word. Understand?”

 Peter nodded.

 “Yes.”

 “What’s your safe word?”

 “Bugle.”

 “Good. Stand up.”

 He didn’t move back when he told him to get up, but Peter did what he was told. The motion put him chest to chest with Tony, and Stark slid his hands down Peter’s sides, kissing him once more as he found the button to Peter’s jeans and then slid the zipper down. Peter sighed into his lips as he felt his pants get pulled down and a moment later his boxers followed.

 “You’re a virgin?” Stark whispered in his ear, his tongue trailing a line of damp pleasure along the inside of his ear and then the lobe. His teeth caught on the tender piece of flesh there, but he didn’t bite down on him.

“Yes.”

“In _all_ ways?” Tony asked. “Never been blown?”

He felt his cock twitch in response to the question and couldn’t help that he moved his hips a little, brushing the head against the fabric of Stark’s slacks, precum staining the dark fabric even darker.

“No. Never.”

Tony pushed him back down onto the arm of the sofa, and knelt in front of him, and Peter looked down and watched in disbelief as Stark slid his hand along Peter’s throbbing cock, stroking his hand along the shaft to get the feel of him, to learn the size of him.

“What’s your safe word, Peter?”

“Bugle.” 

The boy closed his eyes when Stark took him in his mouth. The wet warmth around the head of his cock was like nothing he’d ever felt before and when Stark’s tongue slid along the slit, Peter gave a cry and came, hard, his hips jerking uncontrollably and his hands going to Tony’s head to hold him still and for much needed support. 

Stark didn’t even seem surprised. The suction on Peter’s cock never let up as the older man feasted on the boy’s cum, swallowing it without hesitation and then teasing the half-rigid member with well-placed licks and nibbles well after Peter was finished thrusting. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter told him, when Stark finally pulled away and looked up at him. 

“For what?” 

“It didn’t last long. I-“ 

“You’re _young_ ,” Tony told him, smiling as he stood up and kissed him again. This time Peter knew it was _his_ cum that they were sharing on their lips, and it excited him enough that his cock twitched, again. “You’ll get better at lasting longer,” Stark assured him. “It’s part of what I’ll teach you. Okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

The boy leaned forward, and Stark held him, close, arms going around his still trembling torso and his lips finding that delicious ear once more to tease and suckle. When he finally stilled, Tony kissed his cheek. 

“Let’s go into the bedroom,” he murmured. “There’s more room for what happens, next.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter get taken, but Tony finds that he might have been as well

The room that Tony led him to was enormous. The size of the entire apartment that Peter and May shared, easily. It was dominated by a large bed, with a flat screen TV that covered a large portion of the wall and a couple of doors leading off to different sides. The windows were shaded, just then, against the sunlight that might be causing a glare, otherwise, but the view was amazing, the boy could see as he and Tony went to the bed.

 “Nervous?” Stark asked him, pushing Peter down onto the edge of the bed and watching his reaction as the man undid his pants and allowed them to drop.

 Standing in front of him with just boxers, now, which did nothing to hide the fact that he was becoming aroused at the sight of the boy sitting naked on his bed.

 Peter looked up at him, and then at the silken boxers in front of him – and the enticing bulge which was right at eye level.

 “A little,” he admitted.

 “That’s understandable,” Stark said. “This _is_ going to hurt a little.”

 Peter hesitated, but then nodded, recognizing that the older man wasn't telling him that he was going to hurt him because he _wanted_ to. Only that what they were going to next wasn't going to be entirely without discomfort.

“Okay.”

Stark saw the fear in the boy’s expression, and was surprised at his reaction to that fear. Normally it would excite him. It would make him hard, and make him eager, and if it had been someone else, he’d already be lubing himself – or _not_ – and claiming the tight virgin ass being offered to him so endearingly. Instead, he leaned over and kissed him, tenderly, his hands cupping Peter’s face. He pulled back, and met his gaze, pleased to see that there was a little more desire, now, and a little less fear.

“There’s no rush,” he murmured. “We’ll take it easy, and enjoy each other. All right?”

Peter just nodded, and Tony kissed him again before standing more upright and pulling off his boxers and stepping out of them, his aroused cock bobbing in front of the boy’s face.

“Suck me, Peter,” Stark told him.

He did what he was told. It wasn't hard to; he wanted to please Tony. Peter leaned forward and took Tony’s shaft in his hand, stroking it while his mouth closed on just the head, first, and then he tried to take in more of the length. Stark held himself still, allowing the boy to do whatever he wanted to; giving him a chance to explore his body and learn from Tony’s non-verbal – and sometimes a little verbal – cues what he liked the most so he could repeat it.

It wasn't long before Stark was rock hard once more and had to pull back, his cock coming out of Peter’s mouth with a slurpy popping sound.

“Get into the middle of the bed,” he ordered him. “On your back.”

While Peter complied, Tony opened a drawer to his nightstand and pulled out a tube of lube. Then he joined him. Peter watched, his breathing a little faster; fear, anticipation and desire all warring on his expression as Stark loomed over him larger than life, putting a knee between Peter’s before reaching down and taking the boy’s cock into his hand and stroking him, languidly.

“Good…” Tony crooned, positioning himself between Peter’s legs, and draping the boy’s knees over his thighs, which opened him nicely and gave the older man an incredible view of his young partner. “You’re doing _great_ , Peter,” he crooned, leaning forward to kiss him again, the action moving Peter’s knees almost against his chest, brushing Tony’s cock against Peter’s thigh, delightfully, and Peter’s cock into Tony’s belly, which made the boy whimper into his kiss.

Peter felt more exposed than he ever had in his life, and it excited him and scared him at the same time. The way Tony was positioned made it obvious that there was no doubt how this was going to end, and that was exciting. He felt something hard and alive press against his inner thigh as Stark kissed him, but Tony’s hand found Peter’s cock and started pumping him, tenderly at first and then more firmly when the boy began responding with slight thrusts of his own.

Peter moaned.

“What’s your safe word, Peter?” Stark whispered against his lips.

“Bugle.”

“Good boy…”

Something wet was being rubbed into his ass crack, then. Gentle, but persistent fingers were slick with it and Peter gasped when one was suddenly sliding into him. He mewed, and tensed, despite the hand still stroking his cock and he opened his eyes and looked into Tony’s heated gaze.

“Please…”

He didn’t know what he wanted, and Stark didn’t ask. The man simply smiled and leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth while the finger in his ass was joined by another, causing Peter to jerk his hips a little. Still stroking him with one hand, Peter felt the fingers Tony had inside him curl and hit a spot that made Peter cry out in surprise and he came, smearing himself and Tony with copious amounts of cum. Stark crooned encouragement, licking Peter’s neck and then his cheek and his lip as he continued stroking the boy’s cock, bringing him through one orgasm and not even slowing the assault on his cock, determined to have him hard in minutes.

Peter brought his hands to Tony’s shoulders, clutching the man above him, looking down between them just in time to feel the fingers leave his body and watch Tony guide the head of his lube slicked cock to his entrance.

“ _Relax_ , Peter,” Stark murmured, pressing himself against the resistant flesh and forcing himself to go slow. So slow.

“Ahh…” Peter’s breath caught in his chest as he suddenly felt the impossible being attempted.

Tony kept pressing, his hips going forward, his hand leaving Peter’s cock to brace himself above the boy to better control his entry.

“Breathe…”

“I _am_ …”

They both felt the moment Peter’s body yielded and the head of Tony’s rock hard cock slid into him, fully. The boy groaned, but Tony’s mouth muffled the sound when the older man caught him in a heated kiss, his tongue searching for Peter’s and tangling with it, teasing it while he pushed the rest of himself into the tight ass that was engulfing him so perfectly. A long minute later, he was buried to the balls and broke the kiss, looking down at the joining of their two bodies with a combination of satisfaction and approval.

He switched his gaze to Peter and saw tears in the boy’s eyes, but a little wonder, as well.

“That was the hard part,” Tony assured him, kissing the tears away and giving Peter a chance to acclimate himself to being so filled. “Keep your hands on my shoulders.”

Peter’s grip was so tight Stark was sure he was going to have bruises, but at the moment he didn’t care. With his hands bracing him above the boy, he pulled himself mostly out, and slowly drove himself back in, repeating the process several times at a deliriously slow pace. Peter’s entire body was tense under him, his legs wrapped around his hips, now, of their own accord while Tony made sure his belly brushed against the boy’s throbbing cock with every thrust.

“Cum for me, Peter…” Tony whispered, thrusting himself, hard, for the first time and making the boy cry out in pleasure. “Do it… Do it…” each thrust accompanied by the same demand. The head of his cock hitting the boy’s prostrate exactly right each time he pushed himself into him and the coarse hairs on his belly stimulating Peter’s cock.

Soon Peter was writhing under him, discomfort forgotten in the building climax that was more powerful than anything he’d ever felt before in his life.

Tony was at his edge, now, trying to keep himself from losing his load before the boy managed to cum, but the instant he felt Peter tense for a final orgasm, the older man drove himself deep and exploded inside him, his seed filling the boy with a force that surprised even Stark and left Peter simply clinging to the man’s shoulders as he tried to process all the different sensations coursing through him.

Stark took a deep, shuddering breath, and hitched his hips a few more times, just because he could – and because it felt _amazing_ – but then he slid out of the boy with a satisfied sigh, and Peter went still underneath him.

“You did _great_ , Peter,” he murmured, gathering the young man into his arms, and holding him, tightly, feeling him sobbing into his chest. “God, that was _amazing_.”

Peter nodded, but couldn’t speak, just yet. It didn’t matter, though. Tony simply cradled him lovingly against his chest until he stopped shaking, and then just held him a little longer because he _wanted_ to. Only when Peter took a deep breath and brought his head up from his chest did Stark release him enough to look down at him.

“Did I hurt you?”

He surprised himself with the question. It wasn't one he’d ever asked before – and had certainly never cared about the response. It wasn't his nature to care, really. Only to please himself. This time it had been different, though, and he realized that it _still_ was. He was holding the boy in his arms just as much as Peter was holding him, and infinitely more carefully than was necessarily warranted.

“No. Not too much,” came the response.

Stark kissed him again and then looked down at the mess they’d made of the bed, and of themselves, and he smiled, suddenly feeling a little giddy.

“I think a shower might be in order, my boy. What do you say?”

“Yeah.”


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Showers are comforting

Even the shower was impressively expensive looking, Peter thought, idly, as he was led into a large glass-and chrome area that was so large it didn’t even need to be completely walled in. Tony ran the water, fiddling with the temperature, and then pulled Peter under the spray with him. It was one of many shower heads, but the only one that was being used at the moment.

 “You’re quiet,” Stark said, picking up a bottle of shower gel and a washcloth. “Regrets?”

 “What?” Peter turned to look up at him and realized what he’d asked. He shook his head. “No. None. It was… um… I don’t know. _Intense_.”

 “Yes,” Tony agreed, taking the washcloth and starting to lather Peter body, washing him with care, and noticing a few red areas on his ribs that might end up being bruises. It wasn't uncommon, of course, to have a mark or two after a frenzied fuck session like they’d just had, and it wasn't a breach of the promise Tony had made not to hurt him. He’d been pretty careful, he thought. Much gentler than he was used to – although he had to admit, the experience hadn’t suffered from the change. “That’s definitely one way to describe it.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Peter asked him, raising his arms when Stark gestured for him to so he could wash his sides, and then watching as the older man washed his belly and his chest.

“You couldn’t tell?”

The boy flushed, uncertain.

“I wasn't really paying attention,” he admitted.

“The first time should be about you,” Stark assured him. “But, in answer to your question; yes. I enjoyed myself very much, and fully expect to again, soon.”

He knelt and started washing the boy’s hips, rear end, thighs and now flaccid cock, which elicited a wince from Peter, despite his care to be gentle, knowing he’d be sensitive.

“Ow…”

Stark smiled, looking up at him.

“Sore?”

 “Yeah.” He couldn’t believe just how much he ached. Everywhere. And he blushed just a little when he found his cock trying to swell under Tony’s gentle ministrations.

 “It isn’t surprising,” he was told. “Busy day, all around for it, right?” Stark was pleased, though, since he was the reason the boy was sore. He was also pleased to notice that Peter was already starting to show signs of being aroused, again. That was always something to be encouraged.

It was one of the reasons he liked fucking younger men. They had stamina to spare and a sex drive that would shame a rabbit. He stroked the boy, firmly, and saw Peter wince as he closed his eyes in reaction, the boy’s hand finding a bar on the wall that had been installed for just this reason, and without waiting, Stark started sucking on him, more than willing to give him another round if he was that interested.

Had to keep the interns happy, after all.

Peter’s hips began rocking and he focused on what was being done to him. Not only was he being given a first class blow job – which yesterday would have just been material for a wet dream, or a stroke session – but now Tony was starting to play with his balls and his ass while he sucked on him and the attention wasn't being lost on his already aching cock. It took a lot longer than the first time, but Peter was soon climaxing, his hips once more jerking forward, driving himself down Tony’s throat and unleashing another load of hot cum for the man to swallow.

Which he did. 

“God…” 

Stark smiled, his wet hair plastered to his head, but still looking incredibly hot to Peter as he continued the interrupted bathing, once more focusing his attention on the boy’s cock. This time, it didn’t even twitch as the older man caressed and cleaned it, and Peter closed his eyes and lifted his head to the spray. 

“You _do_ understand I expect you to reserve yourself just for me, right?” Tony asked, standing up and handing the washcloth to Peter. 

“That’s not a problem.” 

“Good. I’m fairly selfish, and not willing to share my toys.” 

Tony presented himself to the boy, waiting for him to start washing him. It was erotic to watch as Peter explored his body with soap and hands, running his fingers over aching muscles and feeling that same rush of power to see him kneeling in front of him while he spent some time washing Tony’s cock and balls, as well. Unlike Peter, however, Stark was spent, and the boy’s attention didn’t garner more than a twitch of interest. 

“How often…” Peter started, washing Tony’s thighs and legs. “How often will we be doing this?” 

“Whenever I want,” Tony replied, reminding the boy who was in charge. “Obviously at the office and whenever others are around, it’ll be strictly hands off – unless I say otherwise – but there will be days like today when I want to fuck you until you can’t move, and when I do, I’ll expect you to make every attempt to clear your day to make that happen.” 

“I will.” 

“School has to come first,” Tony told him, pulling the boy up so he could kiss him, which he did, hungrily. “Because if your grades start slipping, people will notice, and we don’t want that.” 

“No.” 

“Questions?” 

“Not right now.” 

Which wasn't surprising to Stark. He was sure Peter was still somewhat numbed by their recent activities – he knew he was still feeling the aftermath of it, and he had known what to expect. 

He turned the water off and dried them both before taking Peter’s hand and leading back into the bedroom. Once there, they stripped off the top layer of bedding, leaving sheets and a single blanket still very much usable, and Stark pulled the boy into his arms, pressing himself against him as he simply held him, and Peter melted against his body, delightfully. 

“Come on,” Tony said, pulling away with a little bit of regret. He turned the bedding down and pushed Peter into the bed and then followed him. “I need some rest.” 

Probably not as much as Peter did, but that was fine. Stark wanted to spoon the boy so he could nap with his cock pressed right up against that delicious ass, but when he joined Peter in the bed, the boy had gone for belly to belly, with an arm flung over Stark’s side and his face pressed into his neck. He fell asleep almost immediately. Certainly before Tony could correct him, or reposition him to his satisfaction. 

Tony could feel the boy’s warm breathing, and decided that was a good position, too, he supposed. He slid his hand down between them, and draped Peter’s leg up over his thigh, putting their bodies that much closer, and then slid his hand along the soft cock of the boy, not with the intent to arouse him – although Peter murmured something in his sleep and hitched his hips once or twice before stilling – but simply because as far as Stark was concerned, the cock and the boy attached to it were his, now. 

He’d staked his claim and was looking forward to everything that there was to explore with him in the near future. True, there were some restrictions that he definitely didn’t like – he didn’t like restrictions at _all_ , really, and the fact that it was a kid telling him what he couldn’t do drove him nuts and endeared him all at the same time – he would work around them. 

Stark moved his hand back to the boy’s side, caressing him while he slept and making plans for the next step in Peter’s education.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be careful what you wish for

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, time to get up…”

Peter groaned and pulled the blanket up over his head.

“It’s too early.”

Stark frowned, confused, and leaned over the sleeping boy, pulling the blanket away from his head.

“Come on, Peter,” he said. “It’s getting late and I’ve got to get you home. Your aunt will be worried.”

Peter opened his eyes and looked up at him, owlishly. Tony thought it was adorable and felt a stirring in his groin at the sight. But he was dressed and ready and Peter needed to be, too.

“What?”

Stark rolled his eyes.

“Tell me you’re not one of those…”

“One of what?”

“Those people who can’t function right after waking up.”

“No. Of course not.”

He closed his eyes and Tony was fairly certain that he would have gone right back to sleep if he was allowed to. Instead, Stark sat down on the bed and shook his bony shoulder.

“Come on, Peter,” he repeated, torn between amused and annoyed. “Let’s go.”

“I’m _tired_ …”

Tony pulled the blanket down, exposing his naked body and rolled the boy onto his back. Peter stretched, languidly, and reached for the man leaning over him, pulling him down for a kiss. Stark liked the lack of modesty, and he allowed the boy to kiss him, rewarding the willingness to do so by running his hand along Peter’s stomach and down to his cock, which was showing no sign of interest in anything right then.

Peter sighed, though, when the older man’s expert touch caused a faint stirring, and he arched himself a little.

“We need to get going,” Stark repeated, turning and kissing his way down the boy’s stomach, his lips leaving a damp trail that led deliciously lower, until Peter’s hands caught his head and guided him to his now slightly more alert cock. “Your aunt is expecting you to be home soon.”

“I can call her,” Peter pointed out, his breath catching in his throat when Tony’s tongue ran the length of his penis, stopping at the head and flicking against the ultra-sensitive flesh. “Let her know I’m fine, and will be home, late.”

It was tempting, but Stark pulled away, and sat up, unwilling to set a precedence that he wouldn’t want to deal with later.

“Who makes the rules?” he asked the boy.

Peter sighed, disappointed.

“You do.”

“And your first responsibility is to do what I tell you, right?”

“Yes.”

“Get your ass out of this bed and go get dressed, Peter. Now.”

He did what he was told, rolling out of the bed and walking stiffly into the living room where his clothes had been picked up and hung over the sofa when Stark had picked up his own before he’d dressed in a fresh suit. Tony watched him go, shaking his head, amused.

“I’ve created a _monster_.”

He was still sitting on the bed when Peter returned a few minutes later, now dressed and ready to go. He looked a lot more awake, now, as well, and Stark waved him over to the bed, standing him in front of where he was seated, and parting his knees to draw the boy right up to him.

“Apologize,” he told him.

“I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

“For not doing what you told me to do.”

“Don’t argue with me, again, alright? And don’t even _think_ about doing it in front of anyone else. Got it?”

Peter hung his head.

“Yeah. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Stark held out his hand.

“Give me your phone.”

Peter frowned, but reached into his back pocket and handed over his cell.

“Code?”

“800813.”

“ _Boobie_? Really?”

Peter shrugged, and Tony unlocked his phone and handed it to him.

“Call your aunt and ask her if you can stay late. Do _not_ tell her we’re at my apartment, for God’s sake.”

He looked surprised as he took the phone back.

“Where do I tell her I am?”

“The racetrack, the Statue of Liberty, or even the fucking Louvre. I don’t _care_. Just ask her for more time and then get undressed and get back in this bed so I can stuff myself inside you, again.”

While Peter did as he was told – telling May that he was going to make Tony take him to an expensive restaurant to convince him to take on the internship – Stark removed the suit he was wearing and carefully hung everything up so he’d have them handy when he was done.

By the time he was undressed, Peter was naked and watching him from the middle of the bed, his cock somewhat erect and his eyes watching intently as Tony walked over to the nightstand to get the lube, and then over to stand by the edge of the bed.

“We don’t have as much time as we did, earlier,” Tony reminded him. “So you only get to cum once. Before? Or after?”

“After.”

“Come here and suck me.”

The boy scrambled to obey him, and Stark closed his eyes in pleasure when Peter took him in his mouth and began to suck on his cock, getting him ready for a renewed assault on his tight ass, even the boy probably wasn't thinking of it that way. Tony hadn’t had a three hard-on day in a while, and shook his head as his hand curled in Peter’s hair, watching his cock disappear as far as the boy could take it. The boy wasn't the only one who was going to ache later, but it would be worth it.

He finally pulled Peter off of him, looking down at his now swollen rod, and at the boy’s swollen lips.

“What’s your safe word?”

“Bugle.”

“Okay. Turn around.”

“What?”

Stark scowled.

“Hands and knees, turn around and present that beautiful, tight, ass to me, Peter. _Now_.”

Peter did as he was told, turning away from Stark and trembling just a little at the new position. Tony ran his hands along the soft flesh in front of him and felt the boy shale, again. He wanted to spank him. Wanted to use the sharp, stinging pain to distract him from his nervousness, but resisted that urge, well aware that Peter wouldn’t understand that he was trying to do him a favor. Instead, he lubed his fingers and started working on the boy's incredibly tight ass, getting him ready for his engorged cock, which was throbbing so hard by then that Tony finally decided enough was enough.

He slathered himself with lube and guided the head along Peter’s crack, smiling at the way the boy shook under him. Pressing a hand on his shoulders, he pushed his head down a little, bringing his ass up and then put both hands on the bony hips and forced himself forward, still being gentle – for _him_ – but not giving the boy as much time to become accustomed to the sensation of being split in two.

Peter groaned as he slid himself into him, hilting his cock with a single, long steady stroke that left Tony breathless. Stark gentled him with a caress, but didn’t wait long to pull himself out and slam himself back home. He paused a moment, but when there was no protest, he let loose on the boy and started fucking him in earnest, his hands holding his hips while he pumped himself in and out, pistoning with ever faster and harder thrusts.

“Good boy,” he murmured as he felt himself building to his climax. “That’s my boy, Peter. Take it. That’s so good…” Peter whimpered into the bedding, his hands grasping the sheets until his knuckles were white, and rocked backward with each thrust of Stark’s hips, feeling himself filled repeatedly. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and it was painful, but amazing at the same time, and he was caught in the throes of the older man’s lust, even though his own cock was untouched and dripping precum with every movement.

“ _Please_ …” he whispered… “Please, Tony…”

It was enough for Stark, who slammed into him once more, his hips driving him deep and his cock exploding cum into the boy’s bowels in thick, hot spurts that seemed to go on and on as he clutched Peter’s body hard against him, dumping his seed inside his willing pupil.

Only when he was finished, when every last drop had been drained from his balls, did he finally pull out with a ragged breath that was filled with satisfaction, and Peter slumped forward, collapsing onto the bed.

Tony joined him, pulling him into his arms once more and cradling him protectively while Peter shook like a leaf in his arm from reaction.

“Shhhh…” he cooed, pressing butterfly kisses against his lips, his eyes and his forehead. “You’re so good, Peter,” he praised him, running his hand over his shoulders, and then his back and his side, and finally down between them to the boy’s throbbing cock. “You did so well…”

Peter’s eyes were closed, his face pinched with pain or anticipation, Tony couldn’t tell. He didn’t care. Both were tools, and both would make the boy feel what he was doing that much more intently. He stroked Peter’s cock, still praising him, telling him how well he’d performed, how much better he was going to do the next time. Or the next. Making sure Peter understood that they were far from finished. That he was going to fuck him every time he had a chance, and every position that he could teach him.

The words and the actions did their trick – almost sooner than Stark expected. Peter moaned and he came, his hips driving his cock in Stark’s hand faster and faster until the man felt himself showered with yet another load of boy cum, and he smiled, leaning forward and once more kissing Peter’s lips.

“I enjoyed myself,” he murmured. “Did you _notice_ it, this time?”

Peter opened his eyes, which were red from tears of pleasure and pain. He smiled, tiredly, and nodded.

“Yeah. That time, I did.”

 


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter with no sex, unfortunately, but which is needed to allow much more in the ones to come

Friday morning Peter woke up sore and stiff and aware that despite both, he had to go to school. Which was fine, since _after_ school he was supposed to show up at the tower for a personal tour of the tower before Monday, which would be the first official day of his internship. He smiled, even though he ached when he got out of bed and started changing into clean clothes.

It was hard for him to believe that what had happened the day before really _had_ , but the aches were definitive proof. And the fact that when he’d looked the evening before after he’d gone to bed, he had a hickey on the skin right beside his penis.

Tony Stark was an amazing man, Peter thought to himself as he went out to the kitchen to start making breakfast for him and May. He was brilliant, of course, and Ironman – _of course_ – but he was also exciting, and patient, and willing to put up with someone like Peter, who had to admit that he was pretty plain, really, and hardly a stud. Stark could have anyone, Peter knew. It made him feel good that he was willing to hold back what _he_ wanted to do in order to be with him.

“Peter?” He looked over at May, who was watching him, curiously. “Did you _hear_ what I said?”

“I’m sorry. What?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I think your Tony Stark was right about you not _listening_.”

“Sorry, May. I was thinking about the internship.”

She had asked him all about it when Tony had dropped him off the evening before, and the billionaire had come up with him to answer any questions May would have – which had been a lot. Stark had been charming and cheerful and had explained over their kitchen table that even though the internship was unpaid, it came with several financial benefits that would be explained later, since he was well aware that the work would keep Peter from being able to get a real job and make his own cash money while he was working for Stark Industries.

“That’s what I was telling you,” she said, looking unhappy. “You’re going to have to put off starting it until Monday.”

“What? _Why_?”

“Miranda – my friend in Buffalo – is having her baby, and she needs someone there until her mother can get in on Sunday night.”

“I could stay here.”

“You’re _fifteen_ ,” she reminded him. “You’re not staying here.”

She gave him a look that he knew was sincerely apologetic, but he was upset, since he really had wanted to get a tour of the tower after school, and now he wasn't going to get to. He also knew, though, that if not for being stuck with him – and he knew _she_ didn’t think of it like that – she wouldn’t have to make plans around having him, anyway. So it wasn't _her_ fault.

Peter sighed, silently, and nodded.

“Okay.”

A day wouldn’t make that big a difference – even though now he’d have to tell Ned that it was all delayed, after telling him how he’d met Tony the day before. He didn’t tell him _everything_ , of course. Just the stuff about the internship – and that Stark knew he was Spider-man, since it wasn't a secret to Ned.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, May. _Really_. I’ll let Mr. Stark know so he can call off the hookers.”

She smiled at that, and hugged him, promising him that she’d make it up to him another time, and Peter sent a text to Tony on his way to school letting him know what was going on so he wouldn’t be waiting for him to show up that afternoon and maybe be mad when he never arrived.

OOOOOOO

Peter made it through the day without telling anyone but Ned about the internship – and he told Ned not to say anything, either. The last thing he wanted was more attention, and Ned always seemed to say the wrong things when he shouldn’t be. The boy was a little disappointed that he didn’t hear anything from Mr. Stark in reply to him not showing up that afternoon, but Tony was a busy man, he knew, and probably didn’t have time to read the text – much less reply. He might be out doing Ironman things, for all Peter knew.

_Meet me outside the West exit_

The text was from May, and he received it right before the last class of the day ended. He sighed, and gathered his books into his backpack. She was probably ready to go, but he still needed to go home and get some clean clothes.

He was surprised to see the limousine parked in the loading zone. He didn’t recognize the man standing by it, dressed in a black suit, but when he appeared and the window rolled down, May waved at him, gesturing for him to come over.

Ignoring the looks of his classmates, he frowned, walking over and looking up at the stranger.

“I’m Happy,” the man told him.

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. Me, too. Um… it’s a nice day, and all.”

The man rolled his eyes.

“That’s my _name_ , Peter.”

“Oh! Sorry. Nice to meet you.” He frowned. “You know my aunt?”

“I’m Tony Stark’s driver.”

“ _Get in, Peter_ ,” Tony’s voice came from the open window, even the man himself never showed.

Happy opened the door for him and closed it once Peter slid into the back of the car, into the seat beside Tony, so he could look at May who was seated across from them.

“What’s going on?”

“Well,” May said. “Tony here contacted me about your internship and how excited he was about having you over to show the tower off. When I mentioned Buffalo, he offered to watch you this weekend, if you’d prefer to do that instead? You don’t _have_ to, of course. I know you don’t know him very well, and if you’d rather come with me and start on Monday, we’ll both understand.”

“I won’t be offended, Peter,” Stark told him as the car started and pulled out from the school. “I’m practically a stranger, after all.”

“He is _Ironman_ , though,” May pointed out. “So I’m pretty sure I can trust him to make sure you get to bed at a decent hour.”

Peter didn’t doubt that for a minute. He looked over at Stark, whose expression was just polite disinterest.

“You really don’t mind?”

Tony shrugged.

“I could probably find something to occupy you this weekend. There’s always a yard to be mowed.”

May laughed.

“You need to decide,” she told him. “The plane leaves soon, and I need to know if I should cancel your ticket.”

“No. Yeah, I’d rather stay here – if, you know, if you’re really okay with me not going?”

“I am.”

“Good, it’s settled,” Tony said, hitting a button that lowered the barrier between the front of the car and the back.

“Happy?”

“Yeah, boss?”

“Drop Peter and me off at the tower, and then take May home, help her carry anything she packs, and then take her to the airport and make sure they treat her like a VIP.”

“Will do.”

“That’s not necessary,” May told him.

Stark held up his hand to stop her.

“It’s one of those benefits we were talking about last night,” Tony pointed out. “Does he have any allergies I need to know about? Any issues? He’s not a _bedwetter_ , is he?”

Peter rolled his eyes and smiled. May chuckled.

“No. Just feed him and keep him out of trouble. He’ll pretty much take care of himself.”

The two adults continued to talk about Peter as they went to the tower. May filled Stark in on personal things; favorite foods, things that he liked to do for fun, that sort of thing, and Tony assured her that they’d eat real meals and not just sandwiches, and he’d make sure he had plenty to do. They were still discussing things when the limo pulled up to the front of the tower, and came to a stop.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Tony asked May, and Peter, as Happy came around and opened the door closest to the curb for them.

“Make sure you check in and don’t give Tony any trouble.”

“I will – and I won’t,” he promised, grabbing his backpack and getting out of the car. “Have a safe flight. Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe.”

She nodded and waved when Happy closed the door to the car, and the two of them stood outside the glass entrance of the tower until the car drove off, then Stark put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and led him toward the door – which was opened by the same doorman that Peter had met the day before.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Stark.”

Tony nodded and Peter smiled a greeting, but didn’t have time to stop and talk, since the hand on his shoulder was propelling him toward the bank of elevators. Everyone cleared the way when Tony pressed the down button, and when the car arrived, the people on it got off, but no one else joined Peter and Tony when they went in.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked, curiously, when Tony pressed the button that was labeled garage.

“We’re going to get my car.”

“Why? Aren't you going to show me the-“

“Peter. Fate just threw you in my lap for the next couple of days. May is going to Buffalo. Pepper is in Australia. I have you to myself, and I’m not going to waste that time showing you were the executive dining room is. Understand?”

“Yeah.”

He felt a tightening of excitement in his stomach, and a stirring in his loins as Stark stopped them by his car.

“Get in.”

 


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone at last

The drive to Stark’s house was longer than the one to the apartment, obviously. While they drove, Tony asked Peter about his Spider-man abilities. He was curious, of course, both because he was Ironman and the Spiderman might be more than just a sideline interest and thus could become an actual ally – and maybe even an _Avenger_ , who knew? And also because it was a part of Peter, and Tony was _interested_ in Peter.

Peter was honest with him, telling him everything from the bite – and how he was pretty boring before it had happened – all the way through Ben’s death, and how he had taken responsibility for that loss, because he hadn’t done what he should have to stop the man who would eventually kill his uncle.

“That’s not on you, Peter,” Stark told him, realizing that the boy was carrying a lot more of a load on his shoulders than he’d initially thought. He knew about Ben Parker’s death, of course – he knew everything about the people Peter had lost in his young life – but he hadn’t, of course, known the Spiderman connection. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for what _other_ people do.”

Peter looked away, watching as they drove out of the city and toward the more exclusive area of ocean front properties.

“I could have stopped him, though,” he said, softly. “Before he had a chance to hurt anyone else.”

“Maybe. But you might _not_ have, either,” Stark pointed out, reaching over and putting a hand on the boy’s leg. “You were still pretty new at using your abilities – and no webbing yet, right? He might have still gotten away.”

“I should have _tried_.”

“You can’t let yourself dwell on what ifs,” Tony told him, firmly. “I do that all the time, and it drives me into the dirt.”

Peter looked over at him.

“You _do_?”

“Of course. I’m _Ironman_ , yeah. But you think I haven’t let someone get away? It’s _happened_ , believe me.”

They were both quiet, and Stark realized that mentoring Peter was going to be a lot more than just showing him the way around a tech giant company like Stark Industries – and his bed, of course. The boy needed to know about becoming a superhero, as well – and there weren’t a lot of those around for him to look up to. It was a big responsibility.

For some reason that annoyed him while it also made him feel excited. He liked the idea of molding the boy into the image he had for him, but he hated the idea of being responsible for someone else. It rubbed against his nature in every way.

“You live here?” Peter asked, amazed, as they went through a security gate and drove up a long, winding driveway.

“Yes,” Tony said, smiling at the way he’d asked and feeling a little less annoyed.

“Alone?”

“Just _me_ ,” Stark confirmed. “I have cleaning people, and pool people, and yard people, but at the end of the day, it’s just me.”

“Sounds _lonely_ ,” Peter mused, looking at the magnificent house, amazed that one person could have so much space.

“It suits me,” Tony assured him. He reached over and slid his hand along the boy’s leg, this time not intending to comfort. “Besides, I have _you_ , now. How could I possibly be lonely?”

Peter smiled at that, and Stark saw him flush, slightly, as the boy put his hand over his and moved the older man's hand to cover the aching bulge in his lap.

“None of them are here, now?”

“Never on the weekends.”

He pulled the car to a stop in front of the house and they got out. Peter only had his backpack to take in, which made him realize that they were definitely going to have to go back to his apartment for some clean clothes, eventually, but since Tony didn’t seem concerned about that, he wasn't going to worry about it, either. Stark gave him a quick tour through the basics of the place; showing him the living room, the kitchen, a game room and a large lounge area that opened onto an incredible view of the ocean.

“I’ll show you the rest later,” Tony told him, pushing him down onto a sofa in the lounge and following him, brushing a kiss against his lips that made Peter shiver with anticipation.

“Okay.”

“There’s no hurry,” Stark said to him as he ran a hand along Peter’s side and pressed a little closer, forcing the boy backward until he was laying on the couch and Tony was looming over him, sliding himself between Peter’s legs and resting his weight easily on one arm while looking down at him, hungrily. “Tonight, we’re just going to be together, and do whatever we want. Tomorrow, we’re going to play a little.”

Peter nodded, not asking what he meant, and Stark kissed him again, moving his hips which rubbed his swelling groin delightfully against the boy under him. A motion that reminded him that he ached just a bit from the day before, and made him smile, because if _he_ ached now, he could only image how sore Peter was.

He sent a hand down between them, his fingers testing Peter. And he chuckled at the eager bulge he felt in the boy’s jeans.

“I was going to suggest that we have something to eat and spend some time relaxing,” he murmured, kissing him. “But we’d better get you taken care of, first, I think.”

He’d never relax as aroused as he was, and was too young to be as patient as Stark. That was a virtue for the older, and more experienced.

“Please…”

Tony sat up, but a hand on the boy’s chest kept Peter where he was. The older man pushed Peter’s shirt up, baring his chest and leaned over, still between his legs, and suckled first one nipple, and then the other, making the boy close his eyes in pleasure.

“What’s your safe word, Peter?” he asked him, licking the tender flesh and then blowing on it, pleased at the boy’s reaction.

“Bugle.”

A trail of kisses down from his chest and along his belly, and Tony had to move back a little in order to get a good angle when he reached the denim of the boy’s jeans. He pressed his mouth against the bulge of his cock, which was still protected by layers of fabric, and chuckled throatily at the way Peter’s hips bucked in reaction.

“Liked that?”

“Please, Tony…”

“Please _what_ , Peter? What do you want?”

“Suck me.”

Stark opened the button on the jeans and worked the zipper, sliding it down to reveal the plain blue boxers that Peter was wearing. He shifted himself a little and pulled the boy’s jeans and underwear off, but then moved right back between his legs, with one knee over his thigh and the other bent and braced against the back of the sofa.

“You have a _hickey_ ,” Tony told him, amused, as he reached for the boy’s aroused cock and stroked him, tenderly, eliciting a gasp of pleasure.

“I know. I saw it last night.”

Tony bent over the boy’s lap and sucked on the skin right beside his cock, not releasing the boy or slowing the pace of his attentions as he made sure to add a twin to the first one. Then he turned his head and licked the boy’s balls; first one, and then the other, taking them into his mouth one at a time to lovingly taste them and cosset them.

Peter bucked under him.

“ _Slowly_ …” Tony crooned. “Patience…”

He licked his way up Peter’s shaft before his mouth finally closed over the head of the boy’s cock and Peter groaned and thrust his hips uncontrollably when Tony began sucking on him, his tongue playing with the head and upper part of the shaft, and his hand stroking him at the same time. Not surprising Stark, the boy came almost immediately, filling his mouth with spurt after spurt of warm, salty cum.

The older man slurped it down, making more noise than was actually necessary, but knowing the sound would be intoxicatingly exciting for the boy, and more than willing to add to the enjoyment he was giving him. It was only _fair_ , after all, since he was going to take plenty of pleasure from Peter’s body, later. Tony licked the boy clean and then moved over him once more and rested himself on Peter’s body, his weight pressing the boy down into the cushions but not enough to be unbearable.

He kissed him and Peter wrapped his arms around him, opening his mouth for Tony’s tongue and tasting his cum on the man’s lips and in his mouth.

“You’ve been waiting all day for that,” Tony said, finally releasing the boy’s mouth after nibbling gently on his lower lip. “Haven't you?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“Worth the wait?”

“Oh, yes.”

Stark chuckled, kissed him again and then levered himself up, stopping only to run an exploratory hand along the boy’s ass crack, stopping at his puckered entrance and feeling a shiver run through Peter when he pressed his finger lightly against him.

“Get your pants back on,” he told him. “We’ll have something to eat, and then find something to do.”

 


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quiet time doesn't mean nothing happens

If Peter was expecting Tony Stark to take him into his bedroom and throw him onto the bed and screw him all night – and he sort of _was_ expecting just that – he was mistaken.

Once he had his pants back on, Stark had led him into the kitchen and seated him at a barstool at the kitchen island. While they talked about the mundane topic of Peter’s day at school, Tony threw together a fairly intricate meal for the two of them, which they ate sitting at the kitchen island.

“Now you can honestly tell May that I fed you actual food when she checks in with you,” he commented as they worked together to rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

“Yeah. It was good, too,” he complimented.

“Thank you.”

Tony then led Peter into his bedroom, which was just as impressive as the one in his apartment – and probably larger. Peter looked around, but watched while Stark pulled his suit off and hung it up, and then walked naked to a dresser in a walk-in closet and rummaged through it for a moment, before throwing a couple of items at him.

“Put those on,” Stark told him. “They’ll be loose – I don’t have _anything_ your size here – but loose isn’t such a bad thing, and I don’t feel like driving you home for a change of clothes.”

The boy did as he was told, stripping out of his jeans and boxers and slipping on a pair of soft lounge pants, that were, indeed, loose on him. Luckily, they had a draw string, and Tony watched in amusement as Peter hitched them up a few times before he managed to get them tied on. He, too, had changed over to lounge pants, which was a sure indicator to the boy that they weren’t going anywhere the rest of the evening.

“Grab a blanket off the bed,” Tony ordered, walking out of the room and back to the lounge area, seating himself on the largest of the sofas and picking up a remote control.

It was getting dark out by then, but one button on the remote started a fire in the gas fireplace and another turned down the lights, by the time Peter had joined him, handing him the blanket he’d brought with him. Stark patted the spot next to him and Peter sat down, immediately pulled up to Tony’s side with an arm around him. He didn’t mind, of course, and Stark draped the blanket over them.

“What do you want to watch?” he asked, turning on the flat screen TV above the fireplace and flipping through a menu of every movie Peter had ever heard of, it looked like.

“Anything, really,” Peter said. “I like all kinds of movies.”

He relaxed against Tony as the man started a drama that was still in theaters, as far as Peter knew, and felt Stark’s hand run through his hair and saw Tony put his feet up on the coffee table in front of them. Peter shifted, putting his head on Stark’s leg, and brushing his hand along his thigh, relaxing further as the movie went on, but very much aware of the man beside him. It was hard not to be, since Tony was idly caressing his cheek, his shoulder and his side, occasionally sliding a hand under the ill-fitting lounge pants and brushing his hip, as well.

Peter could feel Stark becoming aroused. His head was only inches from the man’s lap, after all, but Tony didn’t seem to be in any hurry to do anything about it. His own erection was painful, and made more so the few occasions when Tony’s hand would slide from his hip and run the length of his cock, only to slip back up to his shoulder, again. It was if Tony wanted him hard, but wasn't quite ready to do anything with it, just yet.

“Tony…?” Peter asked, when the movie ended and Stark simply started another.

“Hmmm?”

“Do _you_ have a safe word?”

“Of course.”

Peter was surprised, trying to think of any situation where Stark would find himself out of his comfort level and need to stop things before they got out of hand.

“What is it?”

“Cranberry sauce.”

“Oh.”

Peter felt the man’s hand settle on his hip, and he brought his own up to cover it, and then took it and brought it up against his side, silently asking to be held. Which he _did_. Then he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation, listening to the movie rather than watching it, so that he could focus on everything else around him.

For his part, Tony was enjoying himself, pleased in every way at how the day had progressed. May was a nice woman, and obviously cared for her nephew, but she honestly hadn’t had a chance once he’d read Peter’s text telling him that he wouldn’t be able to do anything that evening since he was going to have to go out of town with his aunt.

Tony had manipulated her fairly easily – he manipulated people for a _living_ , after all and he was very good at it – and the result of that handling now had Peter on his couch, in his home and completely under his thumb for the weekend. Which was exactly where he wanted the boy. He purposely chose movies to watch that weren’t filled with so much action that they’d distract the boy from his very subtle ministrations, but didn’t choose sappy love stories, either. He wanted Peter to be aroused, and would be forced to suppress a surge of satisfaction every time he slid his hand under the boy’s pants and felt the very firm evidence that he was succeeding.

Then Peter surprised him and Tony felt him shift once more; still holding his hand against his side, Peter turned his head and nuzzled his cheek against Stark’s cock, which was making a respectable tent in his own lounge pants. Tony’s breath caught in his chest.

“What are you doing, Peter?” he asked, softly, his hand leaving the boy’s side to brush his cheek.

“Nothing…”

“Keep doing it.”

Tony pushed the front of his pants down, freeing his cock, which bobbed in front of the boy’s face, and Peter lifted his head from Stark’s leg and licked his tongue lightly along the shaft, following a vein toward the head. He kissed it, wetly, and then started back at the bottom, once more, again kissing his way up, and licking the under part of the shaft. Stark realized with a thrill of delight that the boy was making an attempt at teasing him, and even though it was clumsy, it was having the effect that Peter was looking for. Tony finally groaned and put his hand on Peter’s head, giving in.

“Suck me…” he whispered. “Now.”

Peter rolled onto his stomach, bringing himself onto all fours and turned his full attention on Tony’s cock. He drew the head into his mouth and leaned down, taking as much of the shaft as he could into his mouth, gagging himself and drawing back, but trying over and over to get it all in. When he failed, he simply stroked the older man’s cock while he sucked on the head and upper shaft, spreading his tongue flat and across the top and then making it sharper to play with the slit in the tip.

Tony came hard, his head went back and his hands went to Peter’s head, holding him still while his hips jerked upwards, dumping a load of cum down the boy’s throat almost before he was ready for it. Peter gulped it down, dutifully, and cleaned Tony thoroughly and only then, when the older man was coming down from the orgasm, was he able to bring his mouth down onto Stark’s entire cock and feel the head bump into the back of his throat without gagging on the girth.

Stark sighed in satisfaction and pleasure, and pulled the boy up. He positioned Peter in his lap, one leg straddling each of his own, spreading him wide and bringing Peter’s rigid cock and Tony’s now flaccid one together and pinning them between the two bellies with only the thin cloth of the lounge pants Peter was wearing separating them. He kissed Peter, tenderly, gentle in the aftermath of his climax, and brought the blanket up around the two of them before tucking Peter’s head under his chin.

“Nicely done,” he murmured, putting his hands on Peter’s ass cheeks and pulling him as close as he could.

Peter made a pleased noise and just closed his eyes, his cheek resting on Stark's shoulder as he caressed Tony’s side.

“I’ll get you all the way in, some day,” he said.

“I believe you _will_ ,” Stark agreed. “It just takes practice.”

“And I can practice on _you_?”

Tony snorted, amused.

“Yes. I think I could live with that.”

 


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A darker chapter as Tony's darker nature rears its ugly head

Tony stroked Peter’s hair idly while they finished the movie, enjoying the sensation of having him so close, and pleased by the fact that Peter was still hard against his belly. The boy didn’t know it – and _Stark_ wouldn’t explain it – but he was learning to handle being aroused without always being allowed to climax at will. It was _discipline_ , and it was one of the many things that Peter would learn from him.

That same discipline would transfer over well to other aspects of his life. Work and school, anyway. It would remain to be seen how if might affect the superhero thing.

Of course, the amazing blowjob he just gave Tony had earned him _some_ concessions, though, and Stark moved his hand between their bellies and slid his hand into the boy’s pants to play with Peter’s cock during the final credits of the movie, causing the boy to move against him, almost hypnotically.

“Feels good?”

“Yes.”

_Obviously_. Stark’s hand was slick with precum, and both of their bellies were smeared with it. He pulled Peter’s throbbing member free of the lounge pants, and then held his hand still, grasping the boy in a firm grip.

“Fuck my hand, Peter,” he told him.

Holding him, Peter began to rock his hips, thrusting himself against Tony’s grip, while the man allowed the slick cock to slide up and down in his hand, tightening his grip occasionally to excite the boy. It wasn't long until he was moving faster, with less control and more anticipation, and Tony pulled his hand away and looked down to watch Peter hump himself against his stomach. It was exciting – even for Stark, who had already been gobbled down by the boy – and he slid his hand around Peter’s hip to find his tight asshole.

Peter whimpered when Stark pressed a finger into him, without any more lubrication than just the precum that was running down their bellies, but he didn’t stop what he was doing, and he didn’t complain. Tony groaned, feeling his ardor rising and his cock starting to swell once more, which was crazy, and he put his hands on Peter’s shoulders to stop his anxious thrusts.

“Stop,” he said. “Get me up, again. I want to be inside you when you cum.”

The boy slid off his lap and onto the floor between his knees and with his own hips still jerking, having been stopped so close to his climax that he wasn't able to control the reflex, Peter put his mouth back on Tony’s cock.

“Don’t you _dare_ make yourself cum,” Tony warned him.

The threat in his voice was enough to still Peter’s hips, but the older man could feel Peter’s arousal against his leg while the boy sucked on him, anxiously, trying to get him hard so he could have his own release. It took a while, but the control he was feeling over the boy on the floor in front of him, withholding the climax that he was obviously so desperate for, was almost as arousing as Peter’s lips and tongue, and Stark finally pushed him away.

“Did you cum?”

“No…” Peter whispered, anxious, now. “ _Please_ , Tony…”

“Get the lube.” He gestured toward a drawer in the coffee table and Peter stood, his swollen, red, cock proof that he was still waiting for his release. He handed the tube of lubricant to the older man, and then hesitated, uncertain how Stark wanted him.

“Pants off and then back on my lap,” Tony told him, waiting for Peter to comply – which he did. Once he moved forward toward him, Stark merely spread the boy’s legs apart, allowing him to straddle his hips.

Peter gasped when his extremely sensitive cock head touched Tony’s stomach, but Stark slapped his cheek – not hard enough to hurt, he wasn't _that_ far gone, _yet_ – just hard enough to distract him.

“You wait for me. _Understand_?”

“Yes.”

Stark forced him to raise up a little and he slathered lube on the head of his cock but didn’t do anything with Peter’s ass to stretch it in preparation. Some men liked to use toys to open their partners in preparation, but Tony _wanted_ it to be tight. He wanted Peter to feel every inch of him and to see the discomfort on the boy’s face when he skewered him. The thought of it made him that much harder, and he pulled Peter down on him, positioning the head of his cock right against that too tight hole.

Without warning, he slammed upward, pushing Peter down at the same time and forcing himself into the boy, who cried out in pain and pleasure as his cock exploded in orgasm, ropes of hot cum spurting onto his belly and Tony’s. Peter collapsed against the older man, his head coming to his shoulder, and Stark grunted, thrusting himself up, pulling Peter’s limp body down onto his demanding organ, over and over as he fucked the boy without restraint, driving himself into him, eagerly. Peter clung to him, unable to do more than that as Stark’s powerful grip held his hips, keeping him from escaping as he took his pleasure thrust by thrust, striving for his release that was so close. So close he could feel his cock starting to tighten.

“ _Bugle_ …”

It was a mere whisper. Almost a sigh in his ear. Stark hesitated. He was so _close_. He could pretend he hadn’t heard anything. _So close_.

The boy in his arms whimpered, and Tony stopped, holding himself still, his ardor cooled almost immediately by the sob he suddenly heard.

“Peter?”

“Please…”

He lifted Peter off of his cock, carefully pulling himself out and was dismayed to see a little pink in the mixture of lube and precum that stained his still hard, but rapidly deflating organ. Peter didn’t say anything as Tony shifted under him, he just clung to him, shaking so hard Tony was surprised that he didn’t fall apart.

Stark crooned softly as he gathered him into his arms, pulling the blanket over them and rocking him. He’d gone too far. Been too eager – and yes, he’d wanted to _hurt_ Peter. Not like he _had,_ of course. But _some_. To let him feel just how good it could be. To make him understand that _he_ didn’t like pain because he hadn’t tried it, before. Not in bed, anyway. It was good in bed. Only it _hadn’t_ been good. Not for the _boy_ , at least. _Tony_ had been thoroughly enjoying himself.

Another sob.

“I’m _sorry_.”

Tony pressed a kiss against the cheek that he had so tightly against his. The stupid kid was _apologizing_! _He’d_ stepped over the line, but it was Peter who thought that he was in the wrong.

“It’s not your fault,” Stark admitted, softly, his arms tightening around the lanky frame of the boy who was still holding him, and still shaking. “I was too rough.”

He wasn't used to feeling any kind of remorse. Not with his business, not with his friends and certainly not in bed, but it surged up inside him, just then. He turned Peter’s head and tilted the boy’s face up to him, dismayed at the tears that smeared his cheek and the hurt that lingered in his expression.

“Let’s get you into a bath,” he murmured.

“I don’t think I can move.”

“Then don’t,” Stark told him. “I’ll be back in a minute. Will you be all right if I leave you?”

“Not for long?”

“No.”

Peter nodded and Tony slid out from under him, replacing his own body with a couple of couch cushions and Peter curled against them, closing his eyes and looking miserable. Stark went into the bathroom and drew a warm bubble bath and then returned to the lounge area. He knelt in front of the boy and brushed his hair back from his forehead with a gentle touch.

“Awake?”

Peter opened his eyes and nodded.

“Yes.”

“Come on.” Stark didn’t expect him to do anything, though, and he didn’t allow him to, either. He simply pulled the blanket back and scooped Peter up into his arms and carried him into the bathroom, and then into the tub, settling himself in first and then easing Peter down, with his back against Stark's belly, held in place between his legs, and cradling the boy’s head on his shoulder. “You’ll feel better in a little bit,” he promised, turning the jets on low and using a washcloth to tenderly daub Peter’s chest and belly.

“I didn’t do very well, did I?” he asked, sleepily, the shaking finally abating with the hot water and the gentle touch of his mentor, and his body beginning to relax.

“ _You_ did fine,” Tony assured him. “We’ll try again, tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay.”

 

 

 

 

 


	11. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

The sun was shining in his face when Peter woke the next morning. Stiff and fairly sore, he opened his eyes, sleepily, and looked around, confused. After a moment, he realized that he was in Tony’s bed, and a quick glance down at himself confirmed he was naked. Bundled in blankets and propped with a few pillows, he was warm and comfortable, but he didn’t remember going to bed.

Before he had a chance to do much more than try and think back on the evening before – and the disastrous time on the couch after the movie was over, a sound and a movement near the open door to the bedroom drew his attention, and Tony entered, wearing only a pair of lounge pants and carrying a tray with something that smelled delicious.

Peter’s stomach growled.

“Awake at last?” Stark asked, softly, setting the tray on the stand by the bed and then pulling back the covers and sliding under them to sidle up beside Peter, turning on his side to give his attention to the boy.

Peter hesitated, uncertain. He was still sleepy, and never at his best in the mornings, and this particular morning, he was trying to get an idea of if Tony was upset with him from the night before. If he remembered correctly, he hadn’t seemed mad, but Peter knew that he really wasn't that great at reading people, either. He was _also_ trying to decide if _he_ should be mad. He _was_ upset, but Tony had warned him that he might get rough, and that the whole point of having a safe word was for times like that, when it was too much, and he needed him to stop whatever he was doing _because_ it was too much.

He _had_ stopped, Peter remembered that much.

“It’s _morning_?” he asked, not lifting his head from pillow.

Stark hadn’t missed the uncertainty in the boy’s actions, or in his expression, and he felt a pang of distress go through him. The last thing he wanted was to inhibit Peter, and his foolish selfishness the evening before had been at best a fiasco and at worse catastrophic. Peter would be well within his rights to demand to be taken home and even though he would hate to do it, if he asked, Tony would without argument. 

He hid all of those inner thoughts, though, and simply nodded.

“Yes. Closer to lunch, actually. Are you awake enough to eat? Or do you need some time?”

“I don’t even remember going to _bed_ ,” Peter admitted.

“Because you fell asleep in the bathtub and _I_ put you to bed,” Stark explained, not mentioning the tender motions that had dried the boy off, and the fact that he’d cradled his sleeping form all night. Or even the way that he’d watched him sleep in the light of the new day. That probably would have sounded a little creepy, after all. “How do you feel?”

Peter hadn’t moved, yet, but he didn’t need to in order to answer that question, and he was too honest to prevaricate.

“Sore.”

Stark nodded, reaching out and brushing the boy's hair back from his forehead.

“Yes. I figured you would be. I’m sorry, Peter,” he said, sincerely. “I got too excited, and was a bit rough with you.”

“A bit?”

“A _lot_.”

“Yeah.”

“It was a heat of the moment thing,” Tony told him. "For some reason, you drive me crazy."

Peter closed his eyes, still more asleep than awake. He had enjoyed their loving, right up until it had gotten rough, and had hurt. He was excited when Stark made him wait to have his climax, and had enjoyed the way he teased him into being so aroused. It had been exiting and hot and maybe a little dirty.

He felt Tony shift beside him, and a moment later the smell of breakfast permeated his nostrils and he opened his eyes, again. Tony had brought the tray over from the night stand and had set it on the other side of him. He leaned over and kissed Peter, tenderly, licking his lip with exquisite sensuality as he pulled away, and then pressed a grape against the boy’s mouth.

“Open up.”

Peter did as he was told and allowed Tony to feed him the grape, which he ate, even though they weren’t his favorite. And then another one. He followed that with a bite of sausage, and then a piece of toast. Item by item, bit by bit, Stark fed him his breakfast, occasionally taking a bite, as well, but focusing more on making sure the boy replenished himself. When the plate was empty, he moved the tray aside, and sighed.

“Okay. I screwed up.”

“Yes.”

Tony frowned at the agreement, but nodded. He deserved that, and would allow it.

“I _know_. But I’m going to make it up to you.”

“How?”

“I haven’t figured that out, yet,” Stark admitted. “Not completely. To start with, though, today is going to be all about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a self-explanatory statement, Peter” the older man replied. “But the first thing we need to do is to take care of those aches and pains and get you up and moving. That means a _massage_ – which I happen to be very good at.”

“I’m _already_ sore,” Peter pointed out. “Won’t rubbing on it just make me hurt more?”

Stark shook his head.

“Never had a massage before?”

“No.”

The older man leaned over again and this kiss was a little longer, lingering enough that Peter closed his eyes and felt the faintest stirring of desire from the contact.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Tony told him when he finally pulled away.

Peter rolled over onto his back, feeling more awake, now, and not quite as terrible now that he’d had something to eat. He was still tired, though, and thought that maybe he’d just close his eyes and go back to sleep. Tony’s bed was warm and comfortable, and since it didn’t sound like they had anything scheduled for the day, maybe he could take another hour or two.

“Don’t go back to sleep,” Stark said, drawing his attention back to the door.

The older man walked over, carrying a handful of things that Peter couldn’t really see, and didn’t recognize. He set them down on the foot of the bed and pulled the bedding off Peter, who shivered at the sudden chill. Stark ran a delightfully gentle hand down Peter’s chest and belly, and slowed to pay a little more attention to the boy’s flaccid penis, leaning over and sliding his tongue along its length, and teasing it until it began to show interest in his attentions. Peter sighed and shifted a little, his hand resting on Tony’s head, unable to hide the pleasure he was feeling just then.

Before he could become too aroused, though, Tony pulled back.

“On your stomach, Peter,” the older man ordered, him. “We’ll start with your back and work our way around.”

He did as he was told, moving away from the pillows to lie in the spot Tony had vacated. It still smelled like him, Peter noticed, putting his face into the sheets and tensing, despite himself, as he felt Stark straddle his thighs.

Stark must have noticed, because he leaned forward and nuzzled the boy’s neck, kissing him but careful not to put a hickey in such a visible location.

“Relax. This will feel good. I promise.”

Then he went to work, and Peter had to admit that it _did_ feel good. It felt amazing. Tony’s hands were oiled, and they moved with competence along his aching body. He massaged his shoulders, his arms and then his back, and wherever they went, Peter found that muscles that ached from being so tense were suddenly relaxed. Tony shifted lower, spending a fair amount of time on his lower back and his sides, almost putting him to sleep by then.

Peter tensed, though, when he felt the older man reach his bottom, and then felt Stark move between his legs and ease his thighs apart, propping a pillow under his hips at the same time.

“Easy,” Tony crooned, sliding one well-oiled hand along the boy’s back to gentle him, while the other slid along his crack. “I’m just going to make sure I didn’t hurt you, seriously, last night.”

Peter felt a finger – a very well lubricated finger – slide into him and he groaned, torn between pain and pleasure once more. He couldn’t see what Tony was doing, but a minute or two later, the man gave an approving noise and the finger slid out of him and the massage continued.

“I’m okay?” Peter asked.

“You’re fine,” Tony assured him, sliding his hand along Peter’s crack and brushing against his balls in a way that made his breath catch. “Now hush. I need to focus.”

The massage continued; his ass, and then each thigh, calf and even his feet. The pillow was slid out from under him and he was rolled over onto his back, and Stark positioned himself between Peter’s legs once more, draping Peter's knees over his hips but ignoring anything but his chest, at first, which received a fair amount of attention – especially his nipples.

Tony leaned over his chest, then, and kissed him, again, teasing his tongue hotly for a moment before breaking off and returning to what he was doing. Which was now working on Peter’s belly, and then lower. By the time he reached the boy’s cock, Peter was fully aroused, and Tony slid his oiled hand along the shaft, stopping to caress the bulbous head, stroking him tenderly.

“Tony, please…”

“No teasing, Peter,” he assured him. “Not right now, anyway.”

He shifted enough to allow himself to take Peter into his mouth and started sucking the boy, licking him, tasting him and making quick work of getting him off. It didn’t take long before Peter’s hips were rocking and he was thrusting himself upward, taking advantage of Stark’s delightfully wet and warm mouth and his skilled tongue.

He came with a groan, his hands grasping the sheets tightly, and Tony lowered his mouth all the way down on him, his lips right in the boy’s pubic bone, catching the hot seed as soon as it spurted from the boy and swallowing him until he settled. Then licked him dry, and went on with the massage almost as if nothing happened – although Peter was now somewhat breathless.

When he was finished, he wiped his hands on a towel, and looked down at the boy, who still had his legs parted, since Tony was settled in between them.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Let’s get dressed and go for a walk.”


	12. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all about Peter

The area around Stark’s home had a lot of walking trails, carefully cultivated by the people who did the landscaping for the property, and once Tony and Peter were dressed, they went out his back door and found one of them. Tony would point out a couple of landmarks off in the distance, but the conversation was fairly light, to start.

“Why do you have goats?” Peter asked, curiously, as a couple of the creatures jumped up on a rock to watch them as they walked by. This made the boy stop to look at them, of course, and Stark shrugged, not in any hurry to go anywhere, so not having any reason to hurry the boy along.

“The landscapers say they take care of underbrush, and cut down the dangers of wildfire.”

“Does it _work_?”

“So far.”

“Can I _pet_ it?” he asked, reaching a hand out to the closest goat, who was at about chest level because of the rock that it was standing on.

“If it bites you, you have to tell your aunt that it’s your fault.”

Peter shook his head and pulled his phone out and took a picture.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to show May your goats.”

“They’re not _my_ goats, but go ahead. Make sure you tell her I warned you about them biting you.”

The boy laughed and they walked on, but he was sending his text, so he wasn't paying much attention to where they were going, just then. Only when he was done did Stark put a hand on his shoulder.

“Tell me what you think, so far,” he said. “Let’s do a two-day assessment.”

“Okay.”

“Last night’s debacle aside, what do you like, and want to keep doing? What do you not like, or think that could be done differently in order for you to like it – or at least, enjoy it?”

“You’re talking about the sex?” Peter asked, blushing, slightly.

“We haven’t started the rest of the internship,” Stark pointed out. “I don’t want to know how well the staplers work. But don’t be _coy_ about it, alright?” he added. “If you like something, say so. We’ll do it more often. On the flipside, if you _don’t_ like something, I need to know. That doesn’t mean we won’t do it – especially if it’s something that I enjoy – but we can tailor it a bit to make it better for you.”

Peter nodded.

“I like the oral.”

“Giving, or getting?”

“Both.”

“Okay. What else?”

Stark didn’t need to write anything down. He’d remember the conversation without difficulty.

“I liked how we just were together, but were still touching each other and playing with each other. I liked how you played with me.”

“Even though you had to wait?”

“Yeah. It was exciting.”

“Good. And me fucking you?”

“I like that, too,” Peter told him. “Not the _last_ time – like you said – but when you’re careful, it feels good.”

“Do you prefer any particular position? I know we’ve tried a few, now.”

He nodded.

“I like watching your face. Your eyes get so intense.”

“Face to face, got it.”

Peter shrugged.

“It’s pretty much all good, Tony. You haven’t done anything I don’t really like.”

“Good.”

“I don’t like grapes, though.”

“What?”

“Grapes," Peter repeated. "I don't like them. I just thought you should know.”

“Then why did you eat them?”

“I was hungry.”

Stark just rolled his eyes and they walked in silence for a while, just enjoying the fact that it was sunny but not too hot for the walk to be a chore. When they eventually turned toward the house, once more, Tony put his hand on his shoulder, again, annoyed with himself that he seemed to want to always be touching the boy, but not so annoyed that he didn’t do it.

“Is there anything that you _want_ to try, Peter? Something you’ve heard of? Or saw in a movie, or read in a book and wondered what it would feel like?”

Peter thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head.

“I guess not,” he admitted. “Not that I don’t want to try something new. I just don’t know what that would be until I try it.”

“That’s my job,” Tony reminded him. “I’ll expose you to the new ideas, and then you tell me what you think.”

“Okay.”

“Lunch?”

“Sure.”

They ate at the same kitchen island that they had dinner at the evening before. A simple meal of hotdogs and chips, but Peter wasn't a fussy eater, and didn’t complain. Then they went to Stark’s game room and Peter found that spending the day playing pool, pinball and darts could be even more entertaining when the man you were playing with would sidle up behind you when it was your turn and run his hand along your ass, or gently grope you just as you were throwing a dart. It was hard to concentrate when your pants were suddenly much too tight.

“Oooops…” Tony murmured, innocently, when Peter’s dart hit the wall and was nowhere near the board. “My _bad_.”

The boy smiled.

“Am I allowed to do that to you?” he asked, curiously.

“Of course. Not at _work_ , obviously. But here? Absolutely. You can do anything you want to me, Peter. You’re not going to learn unless you try it, right?”

Peter wasn't as subtle as Tony; but by nature of his spider-given abilities, he was a lot stealthier. Tony found his young protégé was pretty good at ending up very quickly where he was least expected, and once found Peter’s hand sliding into his pants while he was in the middle of taking a game-winning shot at pool. The white ball scratched, and the cue went clattering to the floor and Stark found himself swelling almost immediately.

“Oops.”

“Smart ass.”

He had to admit, though, he liked Peter’s cheerful good-naturedness. He had a feeling that the boy didn’t get to display it all that often, not with the history of loss that he had, and the serious nature of his newfound abilities, but it was there, and it was playful. Stark didn’t do playful very often, but he was willing to give it a try.

“You wouldn’t believe it was an accident?” Peter asked, smiling.

“No.”

He pinned the boy between himself and the pool table and kissed him, gently at first, but then with a little more fervor when Peter opened his mouth, automatically, allowing his tongue entrance. Only when a hand pressed against the front of Peter’s jeans told him that the boy was just as hard as he was, did he break the kiss off, licking Peter’s lower lip, briefly, before he bent over to pick up the cue he’d dropped and set it aside.

“Pants off, and get on the table,” he ordered.

Peter did what he was told, stripping himself from the waist down and then hopping easily up onto the edge of the pool table, legs dangling and his eager rod throbbing in front of him at full attention. Tony stood between his legs, still fully dressed and ground himself against the boy, claiming him for another kiss as his hand found his cock and he started stroking him.

“Ordinarily, I’d leave you to stew for a while,” he murmured as he broke the kiss. “But I _did_ tell you that today is all about you, and that means you’re in luck.”

“I _feel_ lucky,” Peter told him, sliding his hand down the front of Tony’s jeans and catching hold of him. “Let me suck on you, Tony.”

The request made him twitch, and he pushed the boy backward onto the table, holding him down with a hand on his chest while he took Peter’s cock in his mouth – which made him groan in pleasure. His tongue played with the contours of the throbbing rod that was in his mouth, and Peter’s hips started jerking up, driving himself into Tony’s mouth, excitedly, feeling it being alternately sucked on, then gently nibbled before he’d play with the head and shaft with the flat of his tongue.

Stark reached with his free hand and played with the boy’s balls, fondling them and squeezing them while Peter writhed under his assault and began grunting, his entire being straining for the release that was so close.

“Yes… oh… Tony…”

Stark ground his mouth down, sliding Peter’s cock into his throat and the boy simply erupted, unable to hold still as he spewed load after load of hot cum into his mentor’s mouth. Only when he was still, laying spent on the table with Tony still in between his legs, did Stark lick him clean and then look down at him, pleased and completely turned on by the sight in front of him and hard as a rock.

“Today is about you, Peter,” he reminded the boy, leaning over him and catching his lips in a heated kiss, addicted to the taste of him. “Not about me.”

Peter clung to him, holding him close.

“Then I should be allowed to do whatever I want, right?”

Stark smiled, and shook his head, giving in – which wasn't hard, because he really _wanted_ to, anyway.

“You’re a tough negotiator, kid,” he told him, giving him his hand to help him off the pool table. “Let’s go to my bedroom, though.”

He was too old for shenanigans on hard surfaces.

 


	13. 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter takes control and manages to surprise Stark

“Where do you want me?” Tony asked as they entered the bedroom a short time later.

Peter looked at him, curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re in charge, right?

“I get to do what I want.”

“It’s the _same_ thing, Peter,” Tony told him. “So. Where do you want me? It’s your responsibility to make sure I understand your expectations. Which, in this case, means that I need you to tell me where you want me to be.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“ _Anything_?”

Stark smiled a challenge at him.

“Why not?”

Peter felt a thrill of excitement go through him.

“Get undressed.”

He watched as Tony did just that, slipping out of his shoes, socks and shirt and then looking directly at Peter when he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down along with his boxers. He was already hard, of course, but he didn’t look like he was quite as desperate as Peter always seemed to feel when he was aroused.

When he was undressed Peter walked over to him and pressed against him, sliding his arms around the older man.

“Hold me, Tony.”

He felt Stark sigh, and then felt him put his arms around him, hugging Peter tightly and resting his chin on the top of the boy’s head. If there was any insincerity in the gesture, Peter couldn’t feel it. He felt cared for and wanted, and because of that he held on, tightly, for a long moment. Finally, he ran his hands along his mentor’s back and down his sides, amazed that he had control of him, just then. He could do _anything_ to the man – and all he could think of, really, was getting a hug. He must have some serious daddy issues.

He shook his head, amused with himself, and Stark must have felt it.

“Something funny?”

“I’m _dumb_ ,” Peter told him. “It’s nothing.”

“I’ll hold you all day, if this is what you want,” Tony told him, meaning it. “It’s your day, after all.”

“No. It’s okay.” Peter stepped back, looking down. “Go get on the bed. On your back.”

He waited until he’d been obeyed, and admired the sight of Tony Stark, waiting for him to join him, naked in the bed. Peter undressed quickly, and joined him, on his hands and knees looming over the older man.

“What’s your safe word, Tony?” he asked him.

Stark looked up at him and smiled, delighted.

“Cranberry sauce.”

Peter dipped his head and kissed him, running his tongue into his mouth, teasing his tongue with his own, much the same way Tony had done to him. It was only natural, after all, since that was who he’d learned from. Then, he licked the man’s lip and kissed his chin, his neck and then his collarbone as he worked his way slowly down Stark’s body, trailing kisses and caresses.

He stopped at his nipples and teased them with lips and tongue. He wanted to nibble them like Tony did to him, but Peter wasn't sure how to do that without biting, and he didn’t want to cause pain. Only pleasure. He must have done something right, because he could feel the groan deep in Tony's chest even before he heard it and Stark reached for him, pressing his head down against the nipple the boy was suckling on.

“God…”

Peter chuckled, and released the nipple with a wet pop, and shifted positions, so that he was at a better angle as he made his way lower, his mouth now only inches from Tony’s throbbing arousal. He stopped and looked over at the man, smiling when he saw Tony had lifted his head up to watch his progress as well as feel it.

“What’s your safe word, Tony?”

“Cranberry sauce. Put your mouth on me, or I’m going to spontaneously combust.”

He smiled and complied, taking the rigid cock into his mouth and licking his way as far down on Stark as he could. He gagged, just a little, and backed off, his hand coming to stroke the length that he couldn’t suck. He applied the flat of his tongue to the head of his cock and flicked his tongue across the slit and then under the head, taking his time to make sure he didn’t miss anything, and was giving it all the attention that he could.

Tony’s hips were moving, now, despite his attempts to stay still. Peter wasn't especially skillful, but the tentative motions and caresses – both with mouth and hand – were driving him crazy, because they _weren’t_ the actions of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. They were the uncertain touch of a neophyte who was so desirable that Tony was fighting to keep from rolling the boy over and parting his ass cheeks and taking him right then and there. He groaned and jerked himself upward, fucking Peter’s mouth as much as the boy could handle and feeling his release draw closer with each thrust.

Peter clamped his mouth down tight on Tony, feeling him tense and knowing he was close. He started sucking him, hard, his mouth encouraging his climax since he couldn’t dirty talk him. Tony gasped and with a final thrust came hard, hot cum slamming into Peter’s mouth in great spurts. Peter swallowed, hurriedly, taking it all in and lapping him up and gobbling his seed as it pumped into him, only slowing his frantic pace when Tony finally became still below him.

“Shit… that was great, Peter,” Stark rumbled, reaching up and brushing his hand against Peter’s cheek.

He should give him control more often, if that was what he was going to do with it.

The boy smiled down at him, then leaned over and kissed him, while at the same time reaching for the tube of lube that was on the nightstand. He broke the kiss and moved down on Tony, pressing his knee between his mentor’s and nudging Stark’s thighs apart so he could get between his legs. Still caught up in the aftermath of his orgasm, Tony didn’t realize what he was doing until he had draped his knees over his thighs, opening him wide and had slid his hand along Stark’s ass, teasing it.

He held still, feeling somewhat aroused as the boy’s hand found his crack, and a finger pressed against his opening. A lubed finger that slid right in with very little resistance and started smearing his asshole, deliberately. Tony gasped at the sensation.

“Peter…”

“Hmmm…?” he didn’t look up from what he was doing, and Stark realized that the boy was playing with his own cock, and from the sheen, he was greasing it up.

Tony tried to move his legs, but Peter caught hold of him, and the boy’s grip was powerful – even with lube on his hands.

“Hold still, Tony.”

With his hands still holding him, Peter leaned over him, between his legs and pressing his cock against the older man’s belly as he brushed a kiss against his lips, pumping his hips a little, feeling his lube-slicked cock sliding along Stark’s belly and closing his eyes at the sensation. Stark returned the kiss, his hands going to the boy’s shoulder, and then feeling Peter shift, one hand still holding onto him, but the other moving between them. He felt Peter’s cock move from his belly and slide along his crack.

“Peter.”

“Yeah.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

The boy’s cock was nudging against his opening, now, and Tony moaned in delight at the sensation, but still found himself freezing when Peter’s hands sought his and he pinned Tony’s hands over his head. He leaned forward, moving his hips carefully forward, the head of his cock now making its presence known as Peter started to shift a little. He wasn't as competent as Stark, of course, but willing to give it a go.

Tony realized what the boy was waiting to hear, and rolled his eyes.

“Cranberry sauce.”

Peter stopped, looking down at Stark and then pulling himself back, and releasing his mentor’s hands.

“Are you okay, Tony?”

“What are you _doing_?”

“I’m going to try to fuck you.”

“What?”

“You don’t want me to?” Peter asked, uncertain, backing up to sit on his calves.

Tony frowned.

“Do you _want_ to?”

“Yes. It won’t hurt you, right? I mean, as long as I’m careful?”

“No, Peter,” he said, he said with an amused chuckle. Oh, God, he _had_ created a _monster_. One of his own creation, for certain. “You can’t hurt me. But don’t hold my hands down, okay? I want to be able to hold onto you and I can’t. Besides, you should brace your weight with one arm and use the other hand to control your entry.”

It was unreal that he was actually teaching the boy how to fuck him, but Tony didn’t mind the idea of letting Peter have his ass – he _liked_ anal, and if Peter enjoyed himself, then he’d have a partner that could play either direction – and that was only exciting.

Besides, it was _his_ day. Right?

“All right.”

“Put more lube on.”

Peter did as he was told, his cock twitching in excitement as he slathered more lube onto it, and then for added measure put more at Tony’s hole. Then he leaned over and kissed him, tenderly, and Stark smiled up at him.

“I’m ready, kid.”

Peter guided himself back into position and held his breath as he forced his way ever so carefully into Tony’s tight ass. He slid the hand that was guiding his cock to Tony’s once the head was truly engaged, and stroked his semi-erect rod while Stark closed his eyes and held Peter’s shoulders, giving himself up to the boy and bringing his knees up a little to open himself even more. He grunted when Peter made it past the resistance of his sphincter, and suddenly found himself impaled with a shared gasp.

Peter dropped his head onto Tony’s chest, amazed at the sensation of being fully engulfed by Tony’s tight body.

“You’re not done, _yet_ ,” Stark reminded him, tightly, his entire being tense. “Fuck me, Peter.”

The boy nodded, and put a hand on either side of Tony’s head, pulling himself back a little and then pushing forward, again, watching Stark’s expression to see if he was going to fast, or too slow. Tony never opened his eyes, simply enjoying the very rare feeling of being impaled and loving the fact that Peter had been so brash as to assume that he could simply have his way with him – which he had.

“Faster…”

Peter did what he was told, increasing his pace, daring to pull a little further out before pushing himself back in. The sensation was amazing, and had it not been for the amazing blowjob Stark had given him on the pool table, he would have already climaxed.

As it was, he quickened his pace once, and then again, pumping hard, now, but watching for any indication of discomfort as he found his rhythm and jerked his hips furiously, now. Another moment and he thrust in hard and held still, his cock exploding cum into Tony’s tight ass and Stark clutching him hard, holding him still while he emptied himself.

Stark sighed, pulling Peter down onto his chest and holding him as he felt the boy's cock slide out of him.

“Did I hurt you?” Peter asked.

“Not at all.” He was well endowed, but hardly a danger. “How did it feel?”

“Great. Exciting.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

“Yeah.”

Peter tilted his head and kissed his jaw, feeling worn out, suddenly, and drained.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Letting it be my day.”

Stark snorted, and reached down without looking and drew the blankets up over their sweat-slick bodies.

“Get some rest, Peter,” he told him, closing his eyes. “Your day is almost over. Tomorrow is mine.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Tony learns that surprises aren't always a good thing

It was dark when he woke, although his internal clock was telling him that it shouldn’t be. Peter opened his eyes, and couldn’t see a thing. Which was impossible for him. Even the smallest amount of light allowed him to see around him like it was practically daytime. For him to be completely blind was wrong. Wrong enough that the weary lassitude he’d initially felt when he woke dissolved, instantly, replaced by a moment of panic.

Panic that grew when he tried to rub his eyes to see if something was in them and realized that he couldn’t move his hand. _Either_ of them, he realized, trying to move the other one, also. The surge of panic that went through him, then, was immediate, and encompassing. Peter jerked his hand, gasping in fear.

“Hey…”

The voice was calm and soothing, and was Tony’s, but it was too little, and far too late. Peter moaned with fright, tugging as hard as he could against whatever was holding his arm still. It gave way with the sound of snapping metal on metal and hands grabbed for him at the same time he sat up, scrambling to try to get to his feet and finding his other hand held down, still. Practically gibbering in fear, he yanked that hand free, too, the momentum of the effort making him fall backward – but he could move, again. A little. Something was pinning him down, now, however. Holding onto him.

_“Peter!”_

Tony’s voice was right in his ear and it cut through his mindless terror, but still he struggled against the bonds that held him and the arms that were suddenly wrapped around him. A hand brushed against his head and he could suddenly see, the morning light blinding him as the blindfold that had been covering his eyes was removed.

Panicked, he looked around, wildly, for whatever awful thing was happening, but all he saw was Tony’s bedroom, the bed, and the man himself, sprawled on him, trying to hold him down.

“Easy…” Stark’s eyes were worried, his face a mixture of worried and annoyed, and Peter stilled, frozen to the spot.

“Tony…”

“Shhhh. It’s okay, Peter. Hold on a minute.”

He turned his head, watching as the older man unbuckled what looked like some kind of leather manacle from first his left wrist and then his right.

“What _happened_?” Peter asked, breathlessly. “What-“

Stark silenced him with a heated kiss, his entire body still on Peter, his weight pressing him down onto the bed. The boy responded almost immediately, which had been Stark’s intent, his panic overwhelmed by the intimate contact and his lips opening to allow Tony’s tongue access to his own. He brought his hand up to rest against Tony’s chest, and Stark broke the kiss, looking down at the boy under him with a chagrined expression.

“Well, _that_ lesson is well and truly learned,” he murmured, leaning down and kissing Peter’s lips, again, and then stringing butterfly kisses along his cheek and neck, aimed more to calm than to arouse.

“What happened?” Peter asked, again, thoroughly confused.

“I tied you up,” Stark told him, rolling off of him now that he was sure the panic attack was over, although the boy was shaking, uncontrollably. “Then I blindfolded you – ironically enough, to keep you from panicking. I’m not sure which one set you off, but I won’t do that again. Not while you’re sleeping, anyway.”

It was a reminder to the man that he wasn't dealing with someone ordinary in any sense of the word. Peter hadn’t snapped the leather restraints that Stark had used to tie him down to the sturdy bedframe. Instead, he’d broken the metal clasps – which were rated to 10,000 pound capacity and should have been the last thing to fail.

The boy had broken them like they were made of cheese.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Stark assured him, sliding his hand along Peter’s chest and belly, keeping his body right up against him and pulling a blanket back over them to warm him. “We’ll try it again in a while – this time a little at a time. All right?”

“Okay.”

“Relax,” Tony crooned, holding him. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Peter closed his eyes, turning into the man’s embrace and allowing his steady confidence to ease his own shaken nerves.

“I wasn't frightened.”

Stark chuckled at the attempted bravado.

“No?”

“Yeah. Just a little surprised.”

“How often do you have panic attacks?” he asked, running his hand through the boy’s hair.

“Not too often,” Peter told him. “I wake up, sometimes, in the middle of the night. I used to think they were just nightmares, but it isn’t the same, you know?”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, even though Peter didn’t see it. “I _do_ know. Feeling better, now?”

“Yes.”

Stark rolled on top of him, now certain that his weight wasn't going to hurt the boy, and straddled his hips. Both of them were deliciously naked and he slid his hand down to find the boy’s penis, caressing it and drawing it against his own, which was somewhat erect, but not in any hurry to wake up, just yet. Which was fine. They had most of the day to play, still.

“I _was_ going to wake you up with a blowjob in the dark,” Tony told him. “As a reward for such a good day, yesterday. But that isn’t going to happen now.”

Or _ever_ , clearly. That wasn't the sort of thing Peter would be able to overcome, most likely. And that was fine. He’d work around the restriction.

“Oh.”

He smiled, still stroking the boy.

“Don’t look so disappointed. We’re still going to play. But now it’ll wait until we’ve had breakfast.” He let Peter go, and kissed him again before rolling off of him. “Get dressed – just the loungers for now – and come eat.”

Peter watched as Stark stopped long enough to slip on some pants and left the bedroom. He took a little longer, but eventually got up, spent a few minutes in the bathroom and then put on those ill-fitting pants and went out to see what was beginning to smell so good.

“Do you have any homework?” Stark asked him by way of greeting. “Anything that should have been completed over the weekend?”

“Some math problems,” Peter told him, coming over and sitting at the island, watching as Tony started scrambling eggs into a pan of chopped up ham and bacon. “I can do them tonight, when May gets home.”

“You’re sure? I meant what I said about keeping up your grades.”

“Yeah. They’re easy ones. I’ll do them before bed.”

The older man looked up from the skillet.

“As an intern – as _my_ intern – you’ll have access to whatever you need in the SI databases to help you with things like homework; research papers, essays, book reports, too, I suppose. But if you find yourself stumped on something, understand that I’m here to help you. Got it?”

“Even _homework_?”

“Why not?”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Because you’re _Ironman_. Do you really want to get bogged down working with me on a paper on the Western Expansion, or something?”

“Yes. If it has anything to do with making you succeed, then absolutely.”

Peter shook his head.

“How many interns do you have?”

“ _One_.” Tony smiled. “And he gets as much of my attention as he needs. Understand?"

"Not really," Peter admitted. "But I suppose that's part of the learning process, too."

"Exactly." Stark dished their breakfast onto a couple of plates and handed them to Peter while he went to the fridge for juice. "Eat, Peter. You're going to need your strength."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	15. 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The experimenting continues... it's a learning process

“Comfortable?”

Peter nodded, rolling his shoulders and moving his head a little, looking up at Tony.

“This doesn’t make much sense…”

“What?”

“Tying me up. We both know I can get _loose_. Doesn’t it make it redundant?”

“It makes it _harder_ on you,” Stark told him. “But it’s not redundant. Besides, the idea of having you tie up and helpless in my bed excites me.”

“Harder on me?”

He had stripped on Tony’s orders and positioned himself on his back, somewhat spread eagled on the bed. Now he and Tony were discussing what Tony wanted to do, next. Which was try a little light bondage – because aside from that morning, Peter had never been exposed to it and Stark sometimes enjoyed it.

“Being able to free yourself means that it’ll take discipline for you _not_ to,” Stark told him. He wrapped Peter’s wrists in soft bandages before putting the leather manacles on them – since he had to use new ones, and the leather hadn’t been broken in and was stiff. He didn’t want to leave any marks. “If you truly couldn’t get loose, I could do anything, and you’d be forced to submit to it because you don’t have a choice. Now you’ll have to submit by sheer force of will.”

“What if I don’t like it?” Peter asked, remembering the events before breakfast.

“What’s your safe word?”

“Bugle.”

“You tell me that, and we stop.”

“And you won’t be mad?”

“No.” Stark looked down at the boy. “I don’t want you to be stupid about this, okay, Peter? If you can’t handle it, then don’t try to force yourself to – not for me. There are plenty of other things for us to explore. Understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

Tony attached the leather manacle on Peter’s right wrist to a leather strap that led to a bracket on the right side of the bed’s frame, and then did the same with the left to another strap, and another bracket. He tightened the straps until Peter found that his arms were stretched to either side. It was just this side of uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Good.”

Stark didn’t bother securing the boy’s ankles. They would open when he wanted them to, and when they did, he’d put his body between them, which would hold them open just fine. So at the moment, he simply admired the sight of having the boy naked and in his control on the bed. He undressed himself, and leaned over, running his hand along Peter’s cheek and jaw. The boy automatically moved his hand, trying to react, and felt a surge of panic when such a normal gesture didn’t work. His breath caught in his throat and his other hand moved, reflexively, in response.

Tony had been watching Peter’s expression as he moved, well aware that the first few minutes were going to be key for his little experiment. He was surprised by just how quickly the boy went from calm and steady to scared and absolutely panicked, because there was no doubt that that was what Peter was the moment that he tried to move his hands and failed.

He was reaching for the manacles before the boy managed to gasp out his safe word.

_“Bugle!”_

“I’m taking them off,” he assured him, snapping the instant release on the first one and leaning over Peter to undo the other.

As soon as he was free, Peter sat up and bolted out of the bed, moving so quickly Stark wouldn’t have been able to grab him if he’d tried – or able to hold him if he’d managed to grab him.

“I’m sorry,” Peter told him, quickly, shaking from where he stopped, leaning with his back against the far wall.

Tony got off the bed at a much more sedate pace and walked over to him, and simply pulled him into his arms. Peter tensed, as if startled by the motion, and then leaned into the embrace and pressed his face against the older man’s shoulder, holding on while he trembled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Stark told him – meaning it. “It isn’t for everyone, and it obviously isn’t for _you_. It _does_ make me wonder if there’s some connection with your extreme reaction and the spider thing, or if you’ve always been so sensitive to being restrained.”

Peter shrugged, feeling like a failure despite the reassurance.

“I don’t know.”

Tony took his head in his hands, one palm on either cheek and tilted his face up to look at him, easily hearing the defeat in the boy’s tone. He smiled down at him and kissed him, lightly.

“You’re a _complicated_ fellow, Peter Parker,” he said. “I love that.”

“You _do_?”

“Of course. Complicated is much more interesting than boring. Much more fun to figure out. Would you rather do a ten piece jigsaw puzzle, or a 5,000 piece one?”

“The 5,000 piece one.”

“ _See_?” he said, as if that explained everything. And to _him_ , it did. “Stop being so glum.”

“But we can’t do those things that you like,” Peter pointed out. “It’ll be boring for you.”

Tony shook his head, and kissed him again.

“If sex is boring, then you’re doing it wrong,” he told him, tilting his head and kissing Peter, hard.

The boy almost gasped into his lips as Stark’s tongue sought – demanded, really – entrance into his mouth and once there, teased and tangled with Peter’s, kissing, licking and nibbling until the boy was breathless, and clinging to him because his knees were suddenly weak.

He pulled away, a strong hand supporting him.

“Was _that_ boring?”

“No.”

Stark pulled him back over to the bed and pushed him down into the middle of it, following him and putting a knee automatically between the boy’s legs as he pressed him back his mouth once more claiming Peter’s and his tongue eager to taste him.

“Sex is what you make it, my love,” Tony told him, his body pressing Peter into the bed, and his mouth moving down to the boy’s chest to tease his nipples, one at a time before moving steadily lower, leaving a trail of goosebumps and shivering flesh and causing Peter to tense in anticipation as the older man reached his now engorged and throbbing cock.

Stark swallowed him, deep-throating Peter and driving his mouth down on the boy who tried to hold himself still but was unsuccessful – especially when his mentor’s hand went to his balls and started fondling them in time with his mouth’s actions.

“Tony…”

His hips were moving on their own, it seemed, driving upward with each downward motion Stark made but the man pulled away before Peter could get too close to release. He smiled at Peter, enjoying how aroused he was and realized that he really did enjoy seeing him like that. And not for the feeling of power it gave him to have control over him.

“I need to be inside you,” he murmured, caressing the crack of his ass when Peter spread his legs to accommodate his body as Stark moved between his thighs. He reached for the lube from the nightstand and kissed the boy again, tenderly, this time. “We’re going to be careful,” he murmured against his lips. “So it doesn’t hurt too much from the night before last.”

Peter nodded, and raised his head, watching as Tony slathered his only slightly aching ass with lube, slipping a finger carefully inside and stretching Peter before adding another, and then a third. The boy arched against the invasion, moaning with only pleasure at his mentor’s touch and whimpered when the fingers abandoned his depths.

Tony brought Peter’s knees up further, baring the boy’s tight ass to his seeking cock. He pressed his hips forward, watching Peter for any sign of discomfort but seeing only want and lust.

“Good…” he crooned, bracing himself over the boy and sliding into him an agonizingly slow inch at a time, forcing himself to hold back until he was once more balls deep and had completely impaled Peter on his throbbing cock.

“Okay?” he whispered.

Peter’s face was red, but not because of pain. He nodded, and Stark pulled himself almost completely out, before pressing into him again, once more going slowly, savoring the tight body of the boy under him and giving him all the time that he needed to accustom himself to the invasion once more. Only when Peter’s hips began to rock in time with his careful thrusts did Stark increase the speed and the power of the motion of his hips, bringing Peter’s knees onto his shoulders to free his hands.

One hand braced himself above Peter, the other went to the boy's cock and stroked him, his palm smeared immediately by precum and Peter’s breath coming in short gasps as they both reached their climax almost simultaneously. Stark grunted and slammed himself deep, ropes of hot cum dousing the inner fires of the boy, while Peter’s cock practically erupted in the older man’s hand, spraying cum over their bellies to then drip down Peter’s hips.

Tony dropped his body onto Peter’s, both of them breathless, and he felt himself soften and slide out of the boy. He chuckled, and kissed Peter’s chest, licking a nipple that was now salty with perspiration.

“Not too boring, was it, my love?”

Peter shook his head, bringing his arms around him and holding him close, wondering if he was teasing him with the endearment, or if he meant it, but afraid to ask.

“No. I can’t imagine that will _ever_ get boring.”

“It won’t,” Tony assured him.

Without letting his prize go, Tony pulled a blanket over them and settled Peter against him. They’d catch their breath, and then he’d get the boy ready for round two and really make it last. He had to take him home that evening, and definitely would need something to tide him over until the next time they could be together.

 


	16. 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The internship begins - no rating on this one

“Why are you doing homework?”

Peter looked up from the math book he’d been studying.

“Because I want to pass math, get a good grade and get into the school of my choice.”

She rolled her eyes, and took another sip of tea.

“I meant, why didn’t you do it this weekend, instead of waiting for the last minute? You had _all_ weekend. Doesn’t he have any tables to do it at?”

“He had _goats_ , May. I was distracted.”

May smiled at that. She’d seen the pictures. And a few others that Peter had sent her over the course of the weekend. As well as several Tony had sent her, too, showing the two of them playing in Stark’s game room and Peter cooking in Stark’s fancy kitchen. She appreciated both of them keeping her apprised of what they’d been up to so she knew Peter hadn’t been bored while she was gone.

Even better, when he’d brought Peter home that evening, Tony had come up and had given her a fairly descriptive report of what the boy had been fed, what kind of activities they’d done – walking around Stark’s large estate had been the main one, although he’d mentioned the game room and movies, as well as cooking.

“You had a good time?” she asked.

“Yeah. I like him.”

“He told me that he wants to take you to the zoo next Saturday.”

Peter frowned.

“What?”

“I’m fairly certain he was teasing, but you might keep your weekend open, just in case.”

“I’m a little old to go to the zoo.”

“You freaked out over a _goat_ ,” she pointed out.

She had the pictures to prove it.

“It was standing on a _rock_ ,” he said, defensively. “And it _surprised_ me.”

May chuckled and stood up.

“I’m going to bed. “Don’t stay up late.”

“I won’t. Good night.”

Peter finished his homework and gathered all the things he’d need for school the next day, well aware that he did better if he had it ready the night before, rather than try to reply on getting it done in the morning when he was still sleepy and not at his best. He would only have half-days at school, now, because of the internship, so he didn’t need too much.

It was exciting, he thought, as he hung his backpack on the back of the chair and went into his room, closing the door behind him and getting undressed. He smiled at the multitude of hickeys that trailed their way from his chest down to his stomach and even lower – marks left by Tony the day before. Something to remind him of who he belonged to, Stark had told him, possessively, as he’d slowly been sliding in and out of him, driving Peter crazy under him. The boy liked that possessive side. Liked the feeling that it gave him that Tony wanted to keep him for himself.

His phone suddenly buzzed at him, and as if thinking about him had summoned him, it was Stark’s face that came onto the screen when he answered.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Did you get your homework done?”

“Yeah. Just finished.”

“Good. Happy’s going to pick you up from school, tomorrow – and every day, next week, in the same place that we got you Friday.”

“I could take the bus.”

“Are you _arguing_ with me?”

“No.”

Stark smiled.

“Good. It’d be a waste of time for you to ride the bus from school. You only have a half day as it is. We need to make the most of it. Got it?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

The smile widened, and Peter thought he saw a gleam of amusement in Tony’s eyes.

“I’m glad you see it my way, Mr. Parker.”

“Did you _really_ tell May you want to take me to the zoo, Saturday?”

“I _did_. They have a nice _petting_ zoo, there. I thought you could play with some kittens, or baby sheep, or something.”

Now Peter was sure of the amusement, and he smiled and rolled his eyes at the teasing.

“I’ll pass. Thanks.”

“We’ll find something else to amuse ourselves, then,” Stark promised him, still smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He disconnected the call and Peter went to bed, but he didn’t sleep right away. He was way too excited.

>><<>><<>><< 

Immediately after his third class of the day, Peter told Ned he’d see him later and with a backpack filled with homework he went to meet Happy. The school gave him credit for the classes he missed, because of the internship, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t have to pull down good grades in the ones that he had in the morning.

It wasn't the limousine waiting for him, he saw with a little relief, it was just a very sleek black sedan, with Happy behind the wheel parked in the loading zone. Stark’s driver rolled down the passenger side window when Peter hesitated, checking out the car.

“Get in, Peter.”

He did, opening the same door that Happy was talking to him from, and got into the front beside the man.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting in.”

“You’re supposed to ride in the back.”

“Why?”

The driver rolled his eyes and started the car.

“Did you have lunch?” he asked as he pulled into traffic.

“Not, yet.”

“Do you want me to stop somewhere?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

He was pretty excited. Probably too excited to eat anything, anyway.

“What do you do for Mr. Stark other than drive?” Peter asked, curiously.

“Things.”

Which was a nice way of telling him that he wasn't into small talk, Peter decided, and he fell quiet, letting Happy just drive.

It wasn't much later when they pulled up to the front of the tower, and Happy stopped the car, but didn’t turn it off.

“Good luck on the internship,” he said as Peter opened his door to get out. “I’ll be picking you up from school every day – unless you hear otherwise. Same place, same time.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Peter got out and the car drove off. He looked up at the tower, looming above him, took a deep breath and headed through the door that was already being held open for him.

“They’re waiting for you, Mr. Parker,” the doorman told him with a friendly smile.

“ _Peter_ ,” the boy corrected.

“I’m Vernon. Have fun.”

Vernon was right; there were three people waiting for him. None of them was Tony Stark and while that was a disappointment, he knew that he shouldn’t be surprised. Tony had a lot to do and had people who could take care of getting Peter settled.

They made him a new badge and took his old one. The new one, he was told, gave him access to all the elevators and all the floors in the tower – including the specialized R&D floors on the top levels. He was told that it would also give him access to all the dining rooms, the restrooms on any floor and conference rooms.

He was then taken to a computer terminal where they logged him into the SI system and had him make himself a password for access. They scanned his face in several different poses and entered it into the computer to teach the system who he was and then explained how to access all the programs he might need.

Two of the three left him, then, and the other – a red-haired woman who had introduced herself as Pepper Potts – sat him down to explain how HR worked, and the hierarchy of the building and the people in it.

“Mr. Stark has never actually shown any interest in having an intern, before, Peter,” she told him, kindly. “Because of that, don’t be surprised if you hardly ever see him – or if he doesn’t seem to know what to do with you. Just make sure you’re available if he comes looking for you – and I’ll make sure that you are kept apprised of anything that he might need from you. All right?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Did you have lunch at school?” she asked.

“No. Happy offered to stop but it was pretty early, and I didn’t want us to be late.”

“Use the dining room on the 7th floor,” she suggested. “Now that you’re in the system, any meals will be charged to your name – but you don’t actually pay for them, since you’re an intern. One of the freebies.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Any questions?”

“What do I do for the rest of the day?”

“Wander around and familiarize yourself with the place,” she suggested. “Just stay out of personal offices, and the R&D labs – unless you’re invited in.”

“Thank you.”

She left and Peter went to the elevators and then the 7th floor, which was apparently almost entirely dining room and break room for all of the people that worked or visited the tower during the week. It wasn't very full just then, being the wrong time of day, but the woman running the place explained he could help himself to any of the items in the coolers, and if he arrived early enough then the grill would still be open and he could have hot sandwiches and fried foods. Peter thanked her and helped himself to a cold turkey sandwich, some chips and a cola, and then went to a quiet table near one of the huge windows so that he had some sun on his face.

He pulled out his science homework to work on while he ate, figuring to take advantage of the quiet in the room before he started looking around. He was through the chips, most of the sandwich and had a couple of pieces of scrap paper on the table with him, when he suddenly wasn't alone. A slight tingle told him to look up, and when he did, he saw Tony Stark crossing the room toward his table.

Peter had to school his expression, and simply stood when he approached.

“Peter. Welcome.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

He looked good, Peter decided, approvingly. Wearing a perfectly tailored suit and glasses, his hair perfect and everything about him exuding competence and confidence.

“They get you situated?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sit down.”

He did, and Tony sat across from him.

“What are you working on?”

“Science. I can finish it later, it’s more of a theoretical assignment, so I have time.”

“It’s fine,” Tony told him. “Smart of you to work on it, now, since you never know what you might be doing, later. What’s the assignment?”

“I have to decide if I believe in dark matter and if I do, then I have to prove it exists. And if I don’t believe in it, then I have to disprove it.”

“Wow.”

Peter smiled.

“It’s _theoretical_ , obviously, but makes you think, anyway.”

“Have you decided which way you’re leaning?”

“I’m going to believe in it.”

“Can I help you with your research to prove it?”

“Yeah.”

Tony nodded, but didn’t get up.

“Finish eating, first. Then we’ll go to my workroom. It’s private, and quiet. We’ll get more done, there.”

Peter shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth.

“I’m done.”

Stark smiled and gestured for him to follow him. Peter gathered up his homework, threw away his garbage and the two walked out of the room and toward a different elevator than the one that had dropped Peter on the floor he was on.

“How was school?” Tony asked as they got in and he hit the up button.

“Oh, it was good. Nothing too exciting.”

“Happy picked you up?”

“Yeah. Thanks. How is your day going?”

“The usual. I sit back and let Pepper do all the work so I can work on my projects.”

“Oh.”

“You met her?”

“Yes. She seems nice.”

“She is. And she is brilliant, so watch yourself with her, understand?”

“Okay.”

The elevator stopped and the door opened. Tony led Peter out and into a large room that was a bit cluttered, but had several tables and drop down display screens that Peter recognized as insanely high tech – and expensive.

“This is my workshop,” Tony told him, locking the door behind them with a pin pad. “I spend a lot of time here. There are cameras – and video – but I’m the only one that has access to it, for security purposes. Nonetheless, try not to jump my bones in here, okay?”

Peter smiled.

“Okay.”

Stark rummaged around in a drawer for one of the tables and handed him a watch.

“This is a tracker I want you to wear – for when you’re out at night doing your thing. That way if for some reason you need assistance, I can find you.”

“Thanks, T-Mr. Stark,” Peter told him, touched that he wanted to watch out for him. “But I can’t wear it _and_ my web-shooters at the same time. It’d probably interfere with whichever wrist I put it on. I could put it in my pocket, though.”

“Do you happen to have one of those with you?”

“No. Sorry.”

“No problem. Would you mind if I take a look at them, though? To get an idea of how they work, and what we can do to improve them.”

Peter hesitated.

“You want to help me with my spider stuff?”

“Of course. You’re my responsibility, now, Peter. My intern in _every_ way. That means it’s my job to take care of you and make sure you have the best equipment that you can have. Got it?”

“Yeah. I just, didn’t know that would be part of it.”

“It is.”

Peter felt a thrill of excitement that he couldn’t hide.

“Thanks.”

Stark smiled, pleased at the excitement he could see in the boy's expression.

“You could thank me with a hug.”

“Here?” he asked. “Right now?”

“It’s safe,” Tony told him. “But even better, follow me.”

Tony led him to a door off to the side of the room and opened it, pushing Peter in ahead of him. It was dark, but Peter could see that there were shelves of supplies of all sorts in the room. Tony closed the door and turned on the light, and then pulled the boy into his arms, pressing against him, eagerly.

“It’s not very comfortable, but it’s ultra private.”

Peter accepted that as truth and put his arms around Stark.

“Thank you,” he repeated.

Tony kissed him, hungrily, but didn’t run his hands along his body as Peter had hoped that he would.

“Thank me by finding a good reason for your aunt to let you spend the weekend with me,” he said. “I can’t believe how empty my bed was, last night.”

The boy smiled, and nodded.

“I’ll try to think of something.”

 

 


	17. 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight interludes

The city was noisy and bright. It _always_ was, even when it was as late as it was, just then. Peter didn’t mind, though, because he didn’t know it any other way, and he loved watching it. Especially from above like he was just then. Standing on the roof of one of the taller buildings in the area, he looked down on the traffic below, watching cars and people, and waiting to see if anyone was going to need him that night. It was dark on the rooftop, so no one could see him, and he was standing in the shadows but there was no way anyone could see him just then, and he knew it.

As Thursdays went, though, it had been pretty silent, so far.

A change in the air pressure and the sound of thrusters drew his attention upward, where a light – like a shooting star, only much more controlled – caught his eye, and he watched as the Ironman suit dropped easily down onto the rooftop nearby. The landing was the classic pose, and he wondered idly if Tony did that on purpose, or if it was just ingrained into him after having done it so many times. Either way, Peter thought it was impressive.

Which might have been why the man did it.

“You’re up late,” Tony said as the suit discharged him and he walked over to stand beside Peter, also looking down at the city below them.

“Yeah. I won’t be much longer, I think.”

“Everything okay?”

“ _Seems_ to be. No internal nagging telling me that I need to be somewhere. Everyone looks like they’re behaving themselves.”

Stark nodded.

He’d had a couple of long talks with the boy in the privacy of his workroom the last four days since he’d begun the official internship, and had a better idea of what Peter did. Unlike Ironman, Peter was more of a stealthy being, waiting until he felt an inner warning – he said his friend Ned called it his Spider-senses – and then allowing those warnings to get him to where he needed to be, and when he needed to be there.

Peter had admitted that he wasn't completely sure how they worked – only that they usually did. If he paid attention to them, anyway. Sometimes, they’d be so subtle that he would almost miss the nudge, and would have to come swooping in at the last minute to save the day, rather than stopping whatever it was before it could unfold.

A day after examining the web-spinner that the boy had created, Tony had announced that they were genius – especially for something whipped up in class in between lectures. Peter had flushed with pride and Stark had found the expression endearing, and had asked if he minded if he played with the delivery system of the shooters a little. To tweak them, he’d explained.

And because he wanted Peter wearing the watch that he’d made, so he could track the boy if he ran into something that he couldn’t handle on a dark night in what was, when you came right down to it, a very dangerous city.

The result of that had been – not surprisingly – a piece of incredible technology that combined the web-shooter into the watch; giving Peter more stability and more flexibility at the same time, and making it easier for Stark to find him when he wanted to talk to him in the middle of the night.

“Good.”

Stark walked over to a dark corner of the rooftop, away from the lights and any possibility of being observed. Then he hopped easily up onto the safety ledge, parting his knees, invitingly. Peter moved to stand between them, resting his still-masked face against the older man’s belly while Tony put his arms around him, feeling the first stirring of arousal at having the boy so close as well as simply enjoying the sensation of having him in his arms.

They had been strictly hands-off all week, aside from a stolen embrace or two in Tony’s work room closet, and Stark was feeling that lack of attention. Clearly.

Peter felt it, too, of course, and slid his hand into Tony's lap, teasing him gently through the fabric of his pants until he was hard.

“Let me suck on you.”

In answer, Tony’s hand went to his zipper and he opened it, pulling his rigid cock out of his pants. Peter lifted the lower part of his mask and hungrily drew Stark into his mouth.

“God…”

Peter was eager, and the flat of his tongue played along the head of Tony’s cock, wetly, the tip of his tongue flicking against the underside of the head until Stark put his hand on the boy’s head and held him still while he allowed his hips to jerk, fucking Peter’s mouth silently, while the boy stroked him. He came with a satisfied grunt and petted Peter’s head as the boy swallowed everything he was given and then, as he liked to do, lowered his mouth on Tony’s entire cock as it started to soften, taking him completely into his mouth.

When he had him cleaned off, Peter was the one that tucked him back into his pants and then tilted his head up for Stark to kiss him – which he did.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Tony asked, finally releasing the boy’s lips.

“Yes.”

Stark leaned a little, sliding his hand down Peter’s belly and finding that he was aroused and throbbing inside the suit he was wearing.

“Have you jerked off?”

“All the time.”

The older man smiled.

“Thinking of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Thinking of me _fucking_ you?” he asked, caressing the bulge in his hand.

“Yes.”

“Of me _sucking_ you?”

“Tony, you’re _killing_ me.”

Stark laughed at the boy’s plaint, and slid off the ledge, letting him go and hugging him, fondly.

“One more day, Peter,” he assured him.

Peter hadn’t even needed to come up with a way to get May to let Tony have him for the weekend. The same friend with the newborn had asked if she’d be willing to come help out since her mother was called back home, and May had approached Tony to see if he wouldn’t mind watching Peter again – until mid-week. She’d apologized, knowing it was a huge imposition, but hadn’t wanted Peter to miss school, _or_ the internship, and didn’t have any real option other than taking him with her.

Hiding his delight at the idea behind a very cool façade, he’d simply told her that he would be fine with that – if she really needed the help – and then mentioned that they’d forgo the baby-sitting fees that he normally charged and call it part of the freebies included with the internship. Then Peter had rolled his eyes when Stark mentioned a weekend trip to the zoo, which had made both adults smile.

When they were done at the tower Friday evening, Tony was going to take Peter home with him, and both of them were looking forward to it.

“I know.”

Tony walked over to where the Ironman suit was waiting for him, a metal sentinel standing guard over their privacy. He had an arm around Peter, and was amused at the bulged that showed quite plainly in the boy’s outfit.

“No more masturbating,” he decided. “Not tonight or tomorrow, I mean.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you so hard and eager that you’re ready to explode.”

“I already _am_.”

“Good.” Tony smiled, and touched his cheek, feeling extremely pleased with himself _and_ Peter, and the way things were working out. “It’ll be more fun my way, Peter. Trust me.”

“I do.”

The boy watched as Stark reentered his suit and it took off, and then he turned his attention back to the city below him. He licked his lips, still tasting the salty flavor of Tony in his mouth, and he smiled, even though his cock was still so hard it was practically demanding that he take care of it. He’d do what he was told, though, and would wait.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	18. 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the weekend finally arrives

It had become something of a routine for Peter to eat lunch when Happy dropped him off at the tower from school. The dining room on the 7th floor was his regular place – if a routine could be established within a week – and he liked the selection from the grill. Normally, he’d eat and work on homework until it was time for him to meet Stark, or there would be a message on the computer system when he logged in telling him if he was needed anywhere else.

One day that week – on Wednesday – Pepper Potts had asked if he minded helping her since Stark wasn't in the building when he’d arrived, and he’d spent most of the afternoon basically running errands for her – which he had actually enjoyed. Like Tony had said; he found her to be brilliant, and she was nice to him, asking about his hobbies, school subjects and family life without being intrusive and nosy, like some of the others who worked in the tower were.

It wasn't too surprising that the others – especially the other interns who didn’t work directly with Tony Stark himself – wanted to know why _he_ did, and why Stark had decided to get himself his own personal errand boy. Especially why he’d chosen one as young as Peter, who wasn't even out of school, yet, much less ready to begin working his way to the top of the corporate ladder. Peter had met a few of them in his dealings with Pepper and when he was in the dining room, but they were all so much older than he was – and were incredibly jealous of his position – that they more or less discouraged him trying to make friends with them.

He understood, even though it made him feel somewhat lonely as he watched them joking with each other over their lunch, or coffee breaks. They had their own little groups and Peter wasn't a part of any of them. He tried to ignore it – he was lucky to be where he was, and after a week, he was feeling like he wasn't over his head, even working so many people who were so much older than he was.

Pepper must have done some checking on his background, because she didn’t ask him about his folks, or anything that might be a sensitive subject, he noticed. She’d known about May, because her questions had been about what kind of person she as, and what they did on their weekends, or in the evenings after he came home. Peter liked her, almost immediately, and when Tony had finally arrived to rescue him from her clutches – as he’d put it when he’d knocked on her office door – Peter had made sure to tell her that he was always available to help her if she needed anything.

“Did you turn in your dark matter paper?”

Peter looked up from his lunch and the book he was reading and saw that Tony was standing at the table in the corner where he was sitting.

“Yeah.” Four weeks early. Which was a record, he was sure. “I’m going to ace it,” he said, smiling. “My teacher was pretty impressed. Thanks.”

“It was interesting to work on.” Stark sat down, tossing a dark look at a couple of people who were watching the interaction from their tables. “What are you reading?”

“Euclidian geometry.”

“Are you even _taking_ Geometry?”

He was pretty sure he knew all the boy’s classes.

“No. I saw a movie, and there was a mention of it, so I wanted to look it up to see what it is.”

The billionaire rolled his eyes.

“You're such a _nerd_.”

There was a lot of fondness in the statement, and Peter could see Tony was amused.

“How am I going to _learn_ , if I don’t explore?” he asked his mentor, who smiled at the double meaning – even though _he_ was the only one who knew it for what it was.

“You make a good point,” he conceded. “Did May get off okay?”

“She sent me a text from the airport, earlier. Are we _really_ going to go to the zoo?”

“Absolutely.” He looked at Peter’s tray. “Are you done eating? We do have a few things to do this afternoon.”

“Yeah.”

Peter packed his book back into his backpack and stood up, gathering his tray and dishes. With a glance over at some of the people who had made their feelings about the newest – and _youngest_ – intern at SI, Tony picked up the boy’s backpack and led him out of the room without Peter noticing the silent interaction. The message was clear; Peter was his favorite, and Stark wouldn’t put up with anyone screwing with him. After all, _they_ could all be replaced. Peter was one of a kind - and Tony was already addicted to him.

“You’re packed?” he asked the boy as they got on the elevator.

“Yeah. It’s at home, though, so we’ll have to stop there. I didn’t want to carry my bag all over this morning.”

“That’s fine.” The elevator stopped and they walked into Stark’s workroom. “What do you have for homework?” Tony asked, walking over and sitting on the edge of his desk, turning to face Peter.

“Math, science and English. It’s not too bad, but I have a book to read for an English essay.”

“Then why weren’t you reading it in the dining room?”

“Because I wanted to read the _geometry_ one. I didn’t even bring it with me, today, it’s at home. I have all weekend to finish that stuff, and-“

“No. You have all weekend to _be with me_. I don’t want anything to get in the way of that, understand?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“I’m going to work on a variation of the AI in my suit this afternoon.”

“Can I help?” Peter asked, excited.

“No.” He smiled, to soften the admonishment of the single word before the boy could get the idea that he’d done something wrong. “I want you to work on your homework, so it’s out of the way.”

Peter was disappointed, but he knew not to argue, by now. He simply nodded and headed over to the small desk that Tony had had put in a corner of the work room for Peter to use and set himself in the chair, already reaching for the zipper on the backpack. Stark walked over as well, and ran his hand along the boy's shoulder.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” he chided him. “You’ll thank me, later, I assure you.”

Peter nodded.

OOOOOO

They left the tower a little earlier than normal. Stark wanted to beat traffic, and they still had to go by Peter’s apartment to get his clothes and whatever he’d thought that he’d need for the next few days. Tony was in a good mood as they drove through the crowded city streets, asking Peter questions about his morning, and about how much later he’d stayed out the evening before after he’d left him on the rooftop. Peter had mentioned that he’d stayed another hour or so, but that nothing had happened and he’d eventually gone home and snuck back into his room.

“And you didn’t touch yourself?” Tony asked, glancing over at him as he parked the car in front of the apartment building.

“I _did_ ,” Peter corrected him as they walked up the stairs. “In the shower to clean myself, in the bathroom when I-“

“Smartass,” Stark interrupted, pretending to cuff the boy’s head, but not even coming close. “You know what I mean.”

Peter smiled, pleased that he’d had a chance to tease the older man.

“No. I didn’t.”

“But you _wanted_ to?”

“Yeah, of course.” He unlocked the apartment and let them in.

Stark closed the door behind him and locked it – including the chain – and followed Peter into his bedroom, sitting on his bed as he watched Peter start gathering a few things that he hadn’t packed.

“Come here,” Tony told him, parting his knees to tell Peter where he wanted him.

The boy walked over and stood in front of Tony, who put his arms around his hips and rested his face against Peter’s belly. In response, Peter ran his fingers through the billionaire’s hair and then down to his back, clumsily massaging his shoulders.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Tony answered. He looked up at Peter, and shrugged. “I’m just torn.”

“About what?”

“I absolutely want to fuck you right here, in your little bed, but I also want to keep you waiting until we get back to my place.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“If I say yes, and tell you, are you going to pick the opposite?”

Stark gave him a smile.

“You’re _learning_ , aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Tony bent his head and mouthed the front of Peter’s jeans, immediately feeling a reaction – both swelling in his pants, and the tightening of Peter’s grip on his shoulder. He stood up and kissed Peter, but didn’t deepen it beyond the initial contact, and slid his hands over the boy’s ass, but didn’t pull him against him.

“I think we’ll wait,” he told Peter, who couldn’t stifle the disappointed noise that he made, even though he didn’t argue. “It’ll be more fun to watch you squirm.”

“That’s _wrong_ ,” Peter told him, amused, and he kissed the older man.

“I know.”

And he loved it.


	19. 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worth the wait

“I’m going to set you up in the guest room,” Tony told him as they walked into his house, much later. “Not that you’ll be actually be _using_ it, but for the sake of appearances.”

“Okay.”

Stark led him to a room that was large and magnificently appointed, with a big bed, a dresser, closet and attached bathroom. Peter set his backpack and his bag on the bed and walked over to the window, looking out at the view.

“It’s nice,” he said, feeling Tony sidle up behind him and put his arms around his hips, clasping them together on Peter’s pelvis.

The older man nuzzled his jaw and Peter moved his head a little, to bare it to his ministrations.

“Yes,” Stark agreed. “It is.”

He slid his hands down, into the front of Peter’s jeans and cupped his very aroused cock in gentle hands and Peter felt his knees go weak at the touch.

“ _Please, Tony…_ ”

He could feel his mentor’s chuckle.

“You have a problem, Peter?”

“Yes.”

“A _large_ one, from the feel of it,” he teased, brushing his thumb along Peter’s swollen length.

“I’m going to explode if you keep _doing_ that,” the boy warned, which made Stark stop.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Come on.”

He took Peter’s hand and walked with him through the living room and into his bedroom. Once there, he stood him next to the bed and told him to undress. While Peter was anxiously sliding out of his clothes, letting them fall to the floor in eager anticipation, Tony carefully took off the suit he was wearing and hung it on a hanger in the closet.

When he turned back to Peter, now naked, the boy stepped into his arms and slid his hand along Tony’s semi-erect cock, caressing the older man and raising his face to him for a kiss. Stark complied and then carefully pulled himself from the boy’s grasp and pressed him backward onto the bed. He parted Peter’s knees and settled himself there, then bent and took the boy’s cock in his mouth, his tongue immediately searching for the sensitive underside of the bulbous head.

It was Peter’s instant undoing, and the boy’s hips jerked, and he came with a groan of pleasure, his fingers curling in Stark’s hair as he unleashed a torrent of cum into the older man’s mouth. Stark swallowed him easily, and then just continued to suck on the boy, even after he was finished, licking and slurping the boy and bringing him almost instantly back to arousal – if he had ever softened in the first place.

Peter wasn't complaining. He couldn’t hold still under Tony; his entire body keeping pace with what Stark was doing to him, his hips constantly thrusting as Tony forced another climax out of him with skilled lips and tongue before he finally lifted his head up and looked at the boy who was breathless under him.

“ _Liked_ that, did you?” he asked him, leaning forward and claiming Peter’s mouth, hungrily.

“Yes,” Peter murmured into his lips, his hand once more seeking Tony’s cock, which was now throbbing its own excitement at the boy’s caress.

Now that his immediate needs were taken care of, Peter spread his legs wider, offering himself to Tony, wanting him to fuck him. Stark had different plans, however, and once more pulled away from Peter’s hand, to climb himself up the boy’s body on the bed, until the swollen head of his cock was dangling over Peter’s face.

“Open your mouth, Peter,” Tony ordered, now facing downward, his head toward Peter’s feet and his knees on either side of the boy and a little behind, to give himself stability for what was coming, next. Peter caught him in his mouth and started to bring his hand up to stroke him, and to control how much of the man’s length he took in at a time, but Tony moved the hand away, gently. “No. Hands down. I'm going to fuck your mouth,” Stark said, and Peter’s hand dropped to the blankets.

Stark pressed his cock into the boy’s mouth, feeling when the head hit the back of Peter’s throat and the suction the boy was creating when he tried to suck him. It felt amazing. He lifted up right before the boy could gag, and pressed in, again, careful to go just as far as Peter could handle.

“Relax your throat a little,” Tony told him. “I’m going to go deeper…”

Peter tried to do what he was told, and Stark’s cock came a little harder, this time, sliding in further than Peter had managed, before, and the boy’s throat tightened around that invading member, even while Peter gagged a little but lifted his head to try to take more. Tony looked down between them and grunted in pleasure at the sight of his cock vanishing into the boy’s mouth, but he pulled back and started fucking his mouth with the just the amount of cock Peter could readily handle. There was time, he knew, for Peter to learn to deep throat him, and it was a good beginning, but he wasn't going to force anything too quickly and frighten the boy.

Instead, he rested his face on Peter’s hip, right beside the boy’s half-erect cock and focused on the sensation of the boy sucking his cock every time he slid it into his mouth and the suction that Peter applied when Stark pulled it out. Soon, Tony’s hips were moving in much shorter motions, jerking as he repeatedly thrust himself down, only once or twice hitting the back of Peter’s throat and never making the boy gag, despite it.

His balls tightened, suddenly and his fingers dug into Peter’s hip when he came, shooting his load forcefully into Peter’s mouth, feeling the boy’s throat muscles tickling his penetrating flesh as he swallowed him. Peter’s hands came up, then, and he held Tony’s hips, pulling him all the way down to drive the older man’s cock all the way into his mouth now that it was soft enough for him to handle the girth, and Stark groaned in pleasure as the boy’s lips tightened on the base of his rod and sucked him, hard.

“Damn…”

Peter didn’t let him go, right away, and Tony stayed where he was, with the boy’s tongue working on the flesh still trapped inside his mouth. Peter was playing with him, learning him and exploring him, and Tony was definitely going to encourage that. He moved his head just enough to lick the tip of his tongue the length of Peter’s cock, smiling when it slowly responded to the touch by thickening and growing. He was ready for a break, though, and reluctantly, he shifted his position above the boy and pulled himself out of Peter’s mouth with a satisfied slurping noise. He moved and looked down at Peter, who was now stretched beneath him, looking as pleased and satisfied as a Cheshire cat.

It made him smile, and he felt a rush of affection – and maybe something more – for the boy, which surprised him, really. Stark shifted until he was able to spoon himself against Peter, his arms going around him from behind, his hand idly brushing the boy’s cock, just to keep him up, not to tease too much.

“Once I’ve caught my breath, we’ll make dinner,” Tony told him. “Then we’ll play some more. If you’re up for it.”

Peter chuckled, his own hand coming to capture Stark’s on his cock and pressing himself back against his mentor.

“I could probably be talked into something.”

 


	20. 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Practice, practice, practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't exactly intend for this story to be as long as it is, but I'm enjoying writing it, so I hope you all who are reading will bear with me. At least for a little while longer

“You brought swim trunks?” Tony asked the boy as they stood by the barbeque that was attached to an outdoor bar area next to the billionaire’s swimming pool.

Peter nodded, watching as Tony grilled steaks and corn on the cob. He was chopping up a watermelon and doing a poor job of getting the pieces even-sized.

“Yes.”

“Good. What book are you reading for English?”

_“War and Peace.”_

Stark looked over at him, incredulous.

“ _Seriously_? That thing is over a _thousand_ pages long. You have to read it this weeke…” He trailed off when he saw the mischievous smile the boy was trying to suppress and pointed the tongs that he had been using to turn the steaks at Peter. “Think you’re _funny_ , do you?”

“A little, yeah.”

Stark smiled, secretly pleased with the boy for managing to get a rise out of him – _and_ being brash enough to do it in the first place. Peter was a lot of things, but he wasn't intimidated by Tony, and Stark liked that.

“Just for that, you get the _burnt_ corn.”

Peter smirked, still amused. He didn’t care.

“It was worth it.”

“What are you _really_ reading?”

“ _The_ _Outsiders_.”

“Good.”

“It won’t take long,” Peter assured him. “I flipped through it – _and_ I’ve seen the movie.”

“Books and movies aren’t always the same,” Stark reminded him.

“Yeah, I know. Which is why I’m still reading the book and not just relying on a movie I watched a few years ago to write my essay.”

“Smart.”

They ate outside, at a table near the pool and watched as the sun went down and the automatic lights on the rear of Stark’s house came on. Peter checked in with May, sending her a text with a picture of dinner – proof that Tony wasn't feeding him McDonald’s instead of something healthier – and her reply was a reminder to not be a nuisance.

“Too late for that,” Tony told him, brushing a kiss against his temple as he got up and started clearing the few dishes that they’d used.

Peter smiled and finished the last of the watermelon before he went over to the sink to help, but Stark waved him away with a wet plate.

“Go get your book and start reading. I want it out of the way before tonight, if you can finish it.”

The boy did as he was told. He went into the guest room where he’d dropped his backpack and fished through his homework to find the book. Rather than sit in the room by himself, though, he took it out into the living room where he assumed Tony would end up when he was finished outside, and settled on the large couch.

It was only a few minutes later when Tony came inside, but he didn’t join Peter right away. Instead, he went into his bedroom and came out dressed only in lounge pants, then he went through the house, locking doors and turning off lights. Only when the place was closed down for the evening did he join Peter on the couch.

The boy looked up from his book long enough to wait for Tony to sit down. Then he leaned over, sprawling on the couch, now, on his back, but with his head resting on Stark’s thigh, wanting to be close. Tony leaned back into the couch cushions, put his feet up on the coffee table and picked up his phone, flipping through it with one hand and sliding his hand lightly on Peter’s arm with the other. Like he’d told the boy, school had to come first, but it didn’t mean that he wasn't going to be near him while he worked on it.

The boy turned onto his side while reading, now facing Stark, and the hand that wasn't holding the book somehow found itself in Tony’s lap, lightly stroking the older man’s cock through his sleepwear as he read. Tony debated telling him to stop so he could focus on his book, but he was enjoying what Peter was doing, and liked the attention – even though it was hardly more than idle caressing, as Peter was clearly interested in what he was reading.

The boy eventually rolled the other direction and tossed the book onto the coffee table and stretched, lazily, turning onto his back and looking up at Stark.

 “Done?” Tony asked, setting his phone aside, as well.

“Yeah. It wasn't very long.”

“Was it close to the movie?”

“Mostly.” Peter confirmed. “Did you see it?”

“Yes. A million years ago. You can write your paper tomorrow, okay? I want a little attention, now.”

The boy smiled, and pulled the front of Stark’s lounge pants down, revealing a very erect cock that was practically throbbing with a life of its own after Peter’s ministrations. As Stark watched, the boy took the initiative and raised up, sliding his mouth down over him, trying to take him all the way, but gagging as the man’s large cock hit the back of his throat. He continued on, though, licking and sucking on him and sliding his hand down to caress Stark’s balls.

“You’re getting pretty good at that,” Tony told him, brushing his hand through Peter’s hair.

The boy nodded but didn’t stop what he was doing, and Tony found himself thrusting into Peter’s mouth eventually, his cock tensing delightfully as he gave himself up to what Peter was doing and decided to let the boy set the pace for their evening. At least for now. Peter knew when he was close, and increased his efforts, hand, lips and tongue all working on giving Tony as much pleasure as he knew how to give, and his reward a few minutes later was a grunt of excitement and a mouthful of cum that came boiling out of Stark in sheets, it seemed. Peter swallowed it, eagerly, pleased with himself for being able to drive Stark to climax. He sucked the now deflating cock into his mouth as deep as it could go and ran his tongue over each vein and curve, in no hurry to give up his prize now that he could get all of it in his mouth.

Tony sighed in contentment and pulled the boy off of him, eventually, bringing him up for a heated kiss.

“Go get changed,” he told him when he had tasted every part of the inside of Peter’s mouth that his tongue could reach. “Something easy to take off.”

When Peter returned only a few minutes later wearing a pair of baggy sweats and a t-shirt, Tony still had his cock out of his pants, caressing it, idly, just to keep it interested.

“You _know_ there are online tutorials that can teach you to deep throat me, right? Have you checked them out?”

Peter shook his head, settling in beside him.

“I didn’t think it would be appropriate to show up on my web browser history at the tower or at school, and I’m sure I don’t want to have to explain to May why I’d be searching that.”

“Good point.”

He picked up his remote and the TV came on. Stark entered a couple of commands and then the display showed several different options for explanations on successfully taking a fully erect cock completely into a person’s mouth and down their throats. He pulled Peter onto his lap while they watched it, and it was his hand stroking the boy, this time, making Peter hard and eager as they watched the instructions in vivid detail – even though it was a skill Stark already had mastered.

When it was over, Tony turned the TV off, and slid Peter’s sweats off before draping a leg on either of his hips; the boy straddling his lap deliciously with his chest against Stark's own, their cocks brushing each other.

“You can try to put it into practice tomorrow,” Tony promised him, kissing Peter’s neck and jawline and dragging his tongue in the same area, as always, careful not to leave a mark. There were plenty of other places he could do that, after all. “I want to be inside you, right now.”

Peter nodded his agreement, his own cock now at full attention and rubbing delightfully against Stark’s stomach, enjoying the sensation as he gently thrust his hips to make each motion its own individual sensation. The boy reached for the lube and handed it him, silently telling Stark that he wanted to have him take him right where they were, and in the position that they were in.

Stark slathered Peter’s ass with lube and then spent a lot of time simply playing with the boy, his fingers driving Peter crazy while preparing him for Tony’s now eager cock. Peter looked down at them while Tony lubed himself up and then raised up to allow his mentor to guide himself into position between his cheeks. After that, it was a simple matter for Tony Stark to claim the boy’s lips with his own while pulling him down and reaffirming that the rest of his body was his at the same time.

Peter sighed, pressing his face against the man’s bare shoulder and moving his hips in time to Tony’s slow and steady thrusts. When Stark took hold of his cock and started stroking him, the boy moaned with pleasure and couldn’t control the way his hips rocked forward to meet the stroke, which drove his entire body, of course, driving Stark’s cock deeper with each thrust.

Peter came much sooner than Tony, spraying cum over his belly and Tony’s hand and belly, but the older man simply kept stroking him as his thrusts became more demanding and more forceful, his hips snapping upward, now, and driving himself into Peter’s depths. His excited gaze met and held Peter’s as he came with a groan and pulled his prize down onto him, hard, and filled the boy with his cum.

Still deep within him, he held Peter in his arms, his chin coming to rest on the boy’s head, his arms holding him possessively and protectively and murmuring reassurances to him, softly.

Peter sighed, and brought his arms around Tony, enjoying the aftermath just as much as he enjoyed the actual loving itself. Surprising himself, Stark did, too.

 

 


	21. 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the zoo

Tony Stark scowled in irritation when his phone rang, pulling his attention from what he was doing. Had it been anyone else on the other line, he would have just ignored it. Some people, however, _couldn’t_ be ignored – no matter how much he tried.

“Pepper?”

She looked annoyed, he decided, idly. Maybe video conferencing all his calls with her had been a bad idea. He should go back to just texting – or even better, using _pagers_. Then he could call back when it pleased him. Or not at all.

_“Where are you?”_

“At the zoo.”

Now it was Potts who scowled.

_“Tony. I have a million things to do before I go to Budapest, and the plane is leaving in an hour. I really don’t have time for your games. Just tell me why you’re not at your apartment where you normally are Saturday afternoon so I-“_

“I’m at the _zoo_ ,” he interrupted.

She frowned, suddenly believing him.

_“Why are you at the zoo?”_

“Because a family emergency dumped my intern into my lap, and I thought I’d take him to the zoo to get him out of my hair.”

 _“You’re with_ Peter _?”_

“Yes.”

 _“At the_ zoo _?”_

“Correct.”

 _“He’s_ fifteen _, Tony. He’s too old for the zoo. He’s probably bored out of his mind.”_

Without a word, Stark smirked and handed the phone to Peter, who smiled when he saw who was on the line.

“Hi, Miss Potts.”

_“Peter. Hello. Are you alright?”_

His smile only grew, and he nodded.

“I pet a baby cheetah, and I rode an elephant and went on this ride that turns you upside down. We had about a million corndogs and some cotton candy and then I saw a polar bear dive into the-“

 _“Can I talk to Mr. Stark, please, Peter?”_ Pepper interrupted, smiling despite herself because the boy’s excitement was contagious, and it was clear that he was having a very good time.

The boy wasn't offended by the interruption. He nodded and handed the phone back to Stark, who took it.

“Don’t go far,” he admonished when Peter looked like he might be going toward another animal habitat. He turned his attention to the phone call once more. “Yes?”

_“How much sugar has he had?”_

“I’m not sure,” Stark admitted. “I wasn't paying attention until he started bouncing from enclosure to enclosure and then jonesing like a madman and eating everything in sight.”

_“Why is he with you?”_

“His aunt had to go to Buffalo. She asked me to keep him.”

_“And you said yes?”_

“Of course, I did. If I had said no, he’d have had to have gone with her and missed a few days of school – and his internship. Would have pissed off the boss, for sure.”

She frowned.

 _“_ You’re _the boss.”_

“But not at his _school_. Relax, Pepper. He’s _fine_. I’ll take him home and cage him in the bathroom or something until he comes down off the sugar high.”

_“I’ll be back Thursday.”_

“Safe trip.”

_“Call if you need anything.”_

“I will.”

He ended the phone call and looked at Peter, who had walked over to yet another food vendor and was buying a large order of curly fries covered in bacon and cheese.

“You sure you want those?” he asked the boy, frowning.

“I’m hungry,” Peter told him, sticking a handful of the fries in his mouth and licking the cheese sauce from his fingers.

“You _shouldn’t_ be,” Stark told him, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder and turning him toward the zoo exit. “Come on. We should probably get you home.”

“Why? I feel great.”

“Yeah. I can tell. But you won’t, later, I bet. Don’t argue with me, okay?”

“Right.”

Peter allowed himself to be guided toward the exit, still munching on the fries.

>><<>>>>><<<<>><><>< 

“This is a $ _300K car_ ,” Tony said, half an hour later.

“I said I was sorry.”

“You think _you’re_ sorry? The guy that details this thing is going to have to work like hell to get bacon and cheese vomit out of the leather. Not to mention God knows how many corn dog chunks you hurled all over us.”

Peter leaned his head against the window, and closed his eyes, looking so miserable that Stark couldn’t even be annoyed with the boy. He sighed, and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Peter. We’ll get you home and put you to bed – with a bucket. You’ll feel better in a while.”

There was no answer, but that was fine with Tony. He didn’t want the boy to open his mouth, just then, anyway. He’d already thrown up twice, and both times had been so sudden that Tony hadn’t had a chance to pull over and at least get Peter’s head out the window. The car was a mess. _He_ was a mess, and Peter was a mess. He couldn’t wait to get them home.

But he’d had a good time before that, for certain. Probably one of the best Saturdays of his life, truth be told.

Tony had woken to Peter between his legs trying to fit Stark’s already aroused cock down his throat. It wasn't going exactly according to plan, but it had still been a pleasant way to wake up. Even better, the boy had continued his efforts until Tony had shot a load into his mouth and had then licked him clean, telling him that he thought he was getting better. Tony agreed, completely.

Then things had taken another turn – equally pleasant – and he had reached over to the nightstand and handed Peter the lube, rewarding the boy’s initiative with his ass. There were _other_ reasons, of course. Peter needed more experience – he could tell that by the fumbling motions the boy was making as he prepared Stark to take him – and even more, there were times Tony _wanted_ to be fucked, and so it was in his best interest to make sure Peter could fill those needs (pun intended) and save him the effort of finding that release elsewhere. 

Besides, he decided as he looked up at the boy’s eager, excited expression as he felt himself being carefully invaded, he found that he truly enjoyed watching as Peter grew more competent and confident at a new skill – _in_ the bedroom and out. It was pleasing, and rewarding.

They’d spent the morning together, licking, sucking, teasing, touching and tasting the other, until hunger had driven them out of bed and into a communal shower and then into the kitchen. Stark was teaching Peter to cook, as well, and he and the boy threw together some fairly ugly – but delicious – omelets.

Then, despite Peter rolling his eyes – clearly trying to hide the fact that the idea was growing on him – they’d gotten into the car and headed for the zoo.

<<<>>><<><><<<< 

“Come on,” Tony coaxed, his arm around Peter, supporting most of the boy’s weight as they walked into the house. “You’re doing great.”

The boy’s arm was over Stark’s shoulder, holding on to him, but hunched over and walking in a stilted gait, clearly feeling a fair amount of distress in his stomach.

“It’s too _far_ ,” Peter told him, dropping his head, exhausted from heaving a third time right before they’d pulled into the driveway. They’d made it inside, yes, but still had the entire living room to traverse. “Just leave me here.”

Tony smiled. It wasn't quite the same, but he’d felt that way before, coming home drunk or hungover, so he knew how miserable he was. And that he wasn't going to die. He just thought that he was, just then.

“Come on, Peter. We’ll get cleaned up, first, then you can sleep the day away, if you want.”

“I have to write my essay,” Peter reminded him, closing his eyes and letting Tony guide him across the room, through his bedroom and into the bathroom.

“You can work on it tomorrow.”

He propped the boy against the bathroom vanity and undressed him, leaving the vomit-soiled clothing in a heap and just kicking it to the side. A minute later, his own clothing – not _quite_ as soiled, but still reeking of cheese and bacon curly fry chunks – joined the pile and was also kicked aside. He helped Peter rinse his mouth out with mouthwash, and brush his teeth to lose that lingering flavor that he knew so well. Finally, he pulled Peter into the shower, guided his hands to the support bars and then thoroughly and carefully washed the two of them from head to toe, stopping only very briefly at the boy’s penis, and _only_ because he couldn’t help himself.

Then he’d kept him where he was and dried him off while he was still holding tight, and had kissed the side of his mouth, still not fully trusting Peter’s stomach, and had taken him to his bed. He covered the boy and got in behind him to spoon with him, wanting to hold him but again not trusting him not to throw up on him. Peter had different plans, though, and had rolled over and had cuddled against Tony, his face going into his chest, one arm holding Tony close and the other pressed against his aching stomach. Stark tried to roll the boy back, but even though he was almost asleep by then, Peter clung to him, tightly, and finally Tony capitulated and pulled him close, making sure the blankets were tucked around the two of them to avoid letting Peter catch a chill.

“You throw up on me, and you’re never going to the zoo, again,” Tony warned him, softly, caressing the boy, lovingly, as he watched him for any sign of a pending eruption.

Peter shook his head and sighed, sleepily.

“I had fun, Tony…” he whispered. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Pete. Go to sleep, okay?”

There wasn't an answer; the boy had already obeyed him.

 

 

 

 


	22. 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aftermaths

He woke, feeling something wet and cool brushing across his forehead. Peter opened his eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him, but trying to smile a greeting when he saw Tony sitting beside him on the bed. He was wearing lounge pants and nothing else as far as the boy could tell, and had a wet cloth in his hand, which was what Peter had felt on his face.

“Hey,” Stark said, leaning over and pressing a kiss against Peter’s temple.

“Hi.” Peter slid a hand from under the blanket that was covering him and rested it on Tony's leg, but was too tired to lift his head to put _it_ there, as well. “It’s morning?”

“It’s still _evening_ ,” Tony replied. “Do you feel any better?”

“Than what?”

Tony rolled his eyes. Clearly, he wasn't quite there, yet. Peter when he just woke up was a mixture of infuriating and amusing, and the older man felt a surge of affection and so much more go through him when he looked down at the boy sprawled on the bed beside him.

“Go back to sleep, my love.”

Peter looked up at him, his smile endearingly exhausted, but his eyes warm. He reached up and caught Stark’s hand, bringing it over and holding it against his side.

“You love me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Tony told him, automatically.

“You just _did_.”

“You’re delirious. _Obviously_.” Stark leaned over and kissed his eyelids; first one, and then the other, more or less forcing Peter to close them. Which he did. Once closed, he was too tired to open them, again. “Go to sleep, Peter.”

“Okay.” He felt Tony pull his hand out of his grasp and jerked himself awake – just a little – suddenly afraid. “You’ll _stay_?”

Stark nodded, and shifted a little, to stretch himself out beside the boy, once more, as he tossed the towel onto the nightstand. _Now_ he _was_ behind Peter, holding his back right up against Tony’s front and the curve of his rear blending perfectly into Stark’s pelvis. He slid his hand along Peter’s stomach, caressing without trying to arouse, since he wanted the boy asleep once more.

“Of course, I’ll stay,” he murmured. “You’re in _my_ bed, remember?”

The more rest, the better, really. He hadn’t had a repeat of the nausea since Tony had put him to bed, and once he’d been sure Peter was asleep, Stark had done some checking with the web, just to make sure he shouldn’t be too worried about Peter’s lack of ability to keep his zoo food down. The search had told him he didn’t need to worry as long as it didn’t last more than a day, so he wouldn’t worry, yet.

But he _was_ attentive. Far more so than he would have been with anyone else and chiding himself for it, even as he had soothed the boy’s brow while he’d slept. When Peter roused, Tony was right there, putting away whatever he was doing and waiting to see if he was going to wake, or if he was going to go back to sleep. Every time, the boy went back to sleep, not ready to join the rest of the world, just yet. Once Stark was certain he was asleep again, he’d find something to work on, to keep his active mind busy.

But he was never far away.

<<<><>>>>>>><><<<>>>>>< 

It was darker in the room when he woke, finally. Outside the bedroom window the sun was down, and the only real light was coming from a light in the adjacent bathroom. It was more than enough for Peter to see by, though, when he opened his eyes and looked around.

Tony was asleep behind him, Peter knew without craning his head around to verify. There was an arm draped over Peter’s side and a hand resting on his chest. Warm breathing in his ear and on his neck placed his face somewhere near the crook of his neck and shoulder, and Peter sighed, feeling warm, and comfortable, and very much loved and wanted.

Even better, the nausea that had driven him into the bed in the first place seemed to be better – although he wasn't so sure that he really wanted to test it, just yet, with anything else.

He shifted in Tony’s embrace, needing to move just a little after spending so long in one position, but he didn’t move far. He simply rolled over onto his other side to face the man. The motion woke Tony, and Peter saw his eyes open even as his hold tightened.

“Are you awake, this time?” came a whispered question in the dark.

“I think so.” He pressed his face into the man’s bare chest and brushed an idle kiss against the skin there before flicking his tongue along the nipple. “I’ve been asleep a while?”

“All evening and a bit of the afternoon,” Stark confirmed. “How do you feel?”

“I’m okay, I think.”

“You’re not going to throw up on me?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.” Tony rolled out of Peter’s arms and reached for a bottle of water on the nightstand. “We’re going to want to keep you hydrated, though,” he said. “So drink this.”

Peter sat up and took the bottle from him, opening it. Stark watched him, intently, as he drank the bottle down, clearly waiting to see if it was going to stay there. His stomach rumbled a little, making him somewhat queasy, but eventually it settled.

“I’m okay.”

“Yeah? Good.” The older man pulled him into his arms, once more trying to roll Peter over to spoon him, and failing when the boy turned himself around and faced him. Tony was beginning to realize that whether he was doing it on purpose, or it was an unconscious thing, Peter liked being face to face with him, and wasn't fond of being held from behind. For all he knew, it was an extension on the whole bondage thing, and maybe a feeling of being confined that he just couldn’t handle. He decided it wasn't that big of a deal. At least, not right then. “Sleepy?”

“Worn out,” Peter corrected. “Not tired.”

“Yeah. You had me worried for a minute, there. We’ll not eat our way through the zoo, next time, okay?”

“Yes.”

The boy ran his hands along his mentor’s chest, stopping at the nipple and teasing it before sliding lower, to his stomach. He felt Tony tense, slightly, and smiled at the way a simple touch could affect him. When his hand went lower, seeking further amusements and proof of the older man’s need, Stark caught it and brought it back to his stomach.

“I don’t think you’re up for that, right now,” he chided, dipping his head and kissing Peter’s lips, tenderly, to soften the refusal.

“I could be talked into it.” Peter opened his lips to Tony, letting the man’s tongue play with his, idly, for a long, sensual moment and sliding his hand back down to his groin, catching his cock and stroking his hand along the length of it. “I could suck you.”

“The last thing you need is anything in your stomach, right now,” he said, with a chuckle, although he brought his hand over Peter’s and moved it up and down several times, enjoying the sensation of the boy’s touch. “It can wait, and so can I.”

The same thing with simply opening the boy up and fucking him. He didn’t want any sudden movements to disturb the equilibrium that Peter had managed to restore with his long nap. Even though his cock swelled under the delicious touch, he finally took Peter’s hand away and returned it to his stomach.

To distract both of them, he asked Peter about the internship, and how he thought it was going. The working part, first, this time. What he was enjoying, what he wanted to do more of and if there was anything that he needed Tony to do differently. As Pepper Potts had told the boy, Tony didn’t do the personal intern thing very often, despite the impression he’d given Peter at their first meeting, so he was willing to allow a little guidance in the process, if Peter had suggestions.

There were a few, and they talked well into the night, both simply being together with the other and enjoying the other’s company as they did. Peter had some good ideas – smart ideas – and Tony filed them away in his mind for consideration, later. He even had a couple of practical ideas for the Ironman suit, which were also stored away to think about. But it would wait. Peter was still tired, and now Tony was, as well. Eventually, the boy fell asleep in mid-conversation, and Tony kissed him again and followed suit.


	23. 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday, funday

Tony woke Peter with a series of butterfly kisses to the side of his mouth. Then, when the boy opened his eyes, the older man switched his kisses to the other side of his mouth, and finally settled on Peter’s lips. When Peter responded with a soft moan of approval, Tony’s tongue touched his lip, demanding and receiving admission into his mouth, where it teased and tasted Peter’s.

“Good morning,” Tony murmured, breaking the kiss and looking down at the boy. “How do you feel?”

Peter pulled Tony’s mouth back to his, deepening the kisses until both of them were sliding their hands over each other’s chests and bellies.

“Much better,” Peter replied, breathlessly, when Stark’s hand slid lower, reaching for him and testing his length and thickness.

He wasn't ready, _yet_ , but he would be, soon, Tony knew. He’d make sure of it.

“Good.” Stark kissed him, again, and then trailed his tongue down to Peter’s neck, tasting him and then teasing his ear. “We’re going to stay at my apartment during the week, so we’ll head over there this evening. Until then, can you think of anything that we can do to amuse ourselves?”

Peter smiled and sat up, pressing Tony down onto his back, surprising him.

“I want to practice deepthroating you,” he reminded his mentor, his lips leaving a damp, delicate trail down to Stark’s belly, and then lower to his penis, which wasn't fully erect and was easy game for the boy’s attempts at getting him completely in his mouth.

Tony closed his eyes in bliss, and moved his arms to the sides, silently telling the boy to do whatever he wanted.

Peter did his best. He licked, sucked and stroked Tony, repeatedly, getting the man to a fully aroused state so that his could lower his mouth onto the throbbing cock and try to take it all in. He never succeeded, though. In part because he wasn't relaxing his throat muscles enough to slide the head of that eager member into him, but also because every time he got him fully aroused, Tony would turn the tables on the boy and roll him over and show him exactly how it was done.

Peter watched in agonizing bliss as his cock vanished down Stark’s throat with an easy motion, and Tony would hum to increase the pleasure he was giving the boy. Which was all it took, of course, to set Peter off and get his hips jerking, wildly, and his cum boiling out of him only to be guzzled down Stark’s throat as quickly as he came.

Three times Tony forced an explosion in the boy, and only then, when Peter was absolutely satiated, did he lube them up and take Peter with hard, eager thrusts. His hands held Peter in position, and his eyes met the boy’s as his hips bucked against Peter’s ass, his balls slapping a rhythm that matched the groans coming from the boy. With a satisfied grunt, Tony finally drove deep and came, filling Peter with quick, jerking movements before collapsing onto his quivering body.

He kissed the boy’s side, and then his chest, smiling down at his red face, pleased.

“You're getting closer every time,” Stark told him, sliding out of him and admiring the freshly fucked body under his own.

“We should practice it, again, soon,” Peter replied, also smiling.

“We will.” They had plenty of time, Tony knew. He had his claim well and truly set on Peter, after all. He kissed him, delighted in just how much he was enjoying the boy – like a kid with a new toy to play with. “Come on. Let’s eat and then find something to occupy ourselves.”

<<<>>>>><<>><<<<>> 

They made a late breakfast, working side by side in the kitchen, chopping ingredients for an omelet, and ate at the island, discussing the week ahead at the tower. Tony had several meetings that he couldn’t get out of, try as he might, and wouldn’t need Peter to do too much while he was in them. The boy knew that if he wasn't running for Stark, he could find plenty of other people to help while he was there, so he didn’t mind. Especially since the first three days of that week he would be going home every night with Tony.

It was an exciting prospect, to think that he’d have the man all to himself for so long.

When they were finished eating, they changed into swim trunks and Tony spent most of the afternoon watching Peter frolic in the swimming pool out behind the house. He sat of the edge of the water, his legs dangling in, and watching as Peter proved that he had far too much energy compacted into his wiry, slim frame.

Occasionally, the boy would swim over to where Tony was and dip his head in Stark’s lap, mouthing his cock through his trunks until the man was erect, only to swim away and try to entice him into coming into the pool with him. Stark would shake his head, and splash him or wave him away to play with one of the pool toys, and Peter would be distracted for a few minutes – or sometimes even half an hour – but he would always return, his eyes bright with excitement and his young face eager.

Finally, Stark did allow him to convince him to cavort in the water for a while. By the time they got out, they were both smiling and relaxed, and the shower that they took together – which ended up with Peter on his knees once more trying to take Tony’s full girth down his throat and failing – was relaxing and left them both ready for a nap before they drove into the city to Tony’s apartment.

“When we get there, you’re going to work on your essay,” Tony reminded the boy over a simple meal of pasta, sauce and bread rolls.

“Yeah. I will.”

“No distractions.”

“No. I’m fine, Tony. I’ve got it all in my head, it’s just a matter of putting it down on paper.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Like what?”

“Things,” Stark said, shrugging. He didn’t know what a teen might need in his daily routine. “New clothes? A new hat? Spending money for something you’ve had your eye on?”

Peter smiled and chewed a roll, slowly.

“I don’t need a _sugar daddy_ , Tony,” the boy pointed out. “I already have _things_.”

“You can _always_ use more things,” Tony told him, scowling when he realized that sugar daddy was exactly what he was sounding like, just then. “Big things, little things, _shiny_ things. I want to keep you happy, Peter.”

“I _am_. I don’t need you to _buy_ me things. Just spend time with me.”

“You make me _sick_ ,” Tony complained, rolling his eyes and clearing their plates, and ignoring Peter’s amused smile. “You need to be more materialistic. Let me _buy_ you something.”

“You could buy me a peanut butter cup blizzard when we go to your apartment.”

_“Seriously?”_

“Well, what did _you_ have in mind?”

“I don’t know. How about a _car_?”

“Without a license to drive it?”

“Jewelry?”

Peter held up his wrist, showing off the watch/web spinner that Stark had made for him the week before.

“Don’t need any.”

“Video game?”

“I’m covered. Thanks, though.”

“Think about it, okay? Humor me.”

“That blizzard is still sounding pretty good.”

Tony rolled his eyes, and shooed the boy away from the island.

“Go get your stuff ready. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

He smiled, leaning on the island as he watched Peter head into the guest room. He wouldn’t admit it – not at _any_ level – but the boy made him happy.

 


	24. 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just transitioning

“So you had a good time?”

“Yeah. You saw the pictures I sent you.”

“True. And he didn’t just feed you junk food?”

“Nope. He’s a good cook, really. He’s trying to teach me, but my eggs come out runny.”

May nodded, studying her nephew from across the kitchen table. He certainly looked happy and healthy. Tony Stark had brought him home from the tower that evening and had come up with the boy, sitting in the living room and giving her a report on what they’d done to amuse themselves and assuring her that he hadn’t been a bother.

He’d declined an invitation to dinner, telling her that he had a prior commitment, but had reminded her that he was always available for Peter-sitting in the future. Then he’d left, and May had started asking Peter questions about the week, just to make sure Tony wasn't just being polite and Peter had been a pain to spend time with.

“And you weren’t any _trouble_?”

“I threw up in his car – ate too much greasy food at the zoo.”

“Peter…”

“He was good about it.”

“Homework’s been getting done?”

“I work on it at the tower when I get there. Mr. Stark is pretty strict about making sure it’s done before I do anything else – just in case it’s tricky and I end up needing help. Plus, he wants me to keep my GPA ridiculously high.”

“I agree with that.” She smiled. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“ _I’m_ glad I didn’t have to go to Buffalo,” he admitted.

May nodded.

“I missed you, though.”

Which made Peter smile, too.

“Tell me about your trip.”

The week had been everything Peter had hoped it would be. Each morning Tony had roused him from bed – _Tony’s_ bed – and had fed him breakfast before driving him to school. Then Happy had picked him up at the usual time and place, and Peter ate lunch in his favorite table, and logged into the SI system to check emails and see what Tony wanted him to do that day.

Usually it was fairly simple. With Tony and Miss Potts both attending meeting elsewhere in the building, Peter had been introduced to a few of the engineers working on the R&D floors of the tower, and had been assigned to assisting them, since Stark was well aware that it would be more interesting for the boy than working in the mail room.

Eventually Tony would come find him, once his meetings were finished, and they would go to his work room. Instead of actually working on any of his own projects, Tony would ask Peter about the projects that the engineers he’d spent the afternoon with were working on, walking the boy through analyzing research and basically helping him understand the best ways to apply what he was learning by watching the others.

It was a good way for Peter to learn, and for Tony to get a glimpse of how the boy’s mind worked.

Then they would eventually call it a day and leave. Dinner at the apartment and evenings of slow, unhurried sex that would leave them tangled in each other’s arms – and the bedding – and then sleep and start all over the next day.

It had been amazing.

He was glad to have May home, though, even though she didn’t have a lot to tell him about her trip. The newborn baby didn’t do much more than eat, sleep, cry and soil diapers. They decided to eat out, and Peter spent the evening telling her what he was learning at Stark Industries, making sure she knew he was doing well and liked what he was doing there.

<<<<>><<<>><<<<>>><<>> 

Sunday night found him standing on his favorite dark rooftop, again, looking down at traffic and thinking about his week, and the schedule for the week to come as he waited to see if anyone was going to need rescuing or anything that night. It was cloudy and threatening rain, but Peter didn’t mind. He liked the feeling that it gave him. Like the atmosphere around him was alive. If it actually started raining, however, he was going inside.

It wasn't much of a surprise that he hadn’t seen Tony at all the weekend after May returned. She’d been gone a lot, and there were things that needed to be done at home, and she wanted to spend time with him, too. He didn’t mind. He enjoyed her company and knew that she always tried to put aside time for him. It made him feel special, and cared for.

Which was the whole idea, of course.

He did feel a little shiver of excitement, though, when he noticed the Ironman suit in the air above the city. Pretty far away – enough that he assumed Tony was out working on some kind of tweak to his thrusters, or something – but still fun and exciting to watch. True, he could swing through the buildings, and stick to walls, but flying had always been exciting and it wasn't something Peter could do.

As he watched, though, the flare from those thrusters came closer and eventually he was landing, lighting up the roof for a brief moment before the suit went dark and Stark emerged. Without a word, Tony walked over and took Peter by the arm, pulling him to the darkest corner of the roof; an area protected by an overhanging piece of roof. Peter found himself pressed into the wall, his mask off and Starks lips hungrily seeking his own.

The boy responded predictably, opening his lips to Tony’s invasive tongue and moaning as the man pressed his pelvis against him, the throbbing bulge in his pants evidence that Tony was missing Peter’s company.  Hands on his shoulders pushed him to his knees and he fumbled for the zipper on Stark’s pants, opening them and pulling out his cock.

There was an appreciative groan from above him when he closed his mouth over the head and started sucking it, eagerly, his hand stroking the shaft as he plied his tongue along the underside, which Peter knew was Tony’s favorite sensitive spot. Surprising him, Stark came almost immediately, and his fingers curled in Peter’s hair as he held his head in place, his hips jerking as he fed the boy a mouthful of hot cum.

The boy swallowed him, then spent a long moment simply tasting and teasing as he licked the still somewhat erect member, and regretfully pulled away when Tony’s hand under his arm brought him back to his feet for another kiss. This one not as desperate, although no less exciting.

“God, I needed that…” Tony told him with a sigh of relief.

Peter smiled, closing his pants once more and then putting his arms around Tony, who held him close.

“I missed you this weekend.”

“I missed you, too,” Stark murmured, turning his head to kiss Peter’s temple. “You wouldn’t believe how empty my house is without you.”

“Did you do anything interesting?”

“No.”

Peter smiled.

“Did you jerk off?”

“Yes.”

“Thinking about me?”

Stark chuckled, well aware where this was heading.

“Yes.”

“About me _sucking_ you?”

“Yes.”

“And me _fucking_ you?”

“Stop it, Peter,” Tony told him, pulling away with a grin that he could see – even in the near dark. “Otherwise you’re going to find yourself bent over the safety ledge with me ramming myself into you.”

The boy laughed and put his mask back on before they walked together out to the edge of the rooftop so they could watch the traffic below.

“What were you doing?” he asked the billionaire. “Testing a thruster?”

“Yeah. Over the water – you know, just in case it fails. But then I saw your little red dot pop up on my GPS and I figured I’d see what you were doing.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“So am I.” A couple of fat raindrops landed on the ledge near them, and Tony slapped his shoulder. “Go home, Peter, before you get rained on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Tony.”

 

 

 


	25. 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And suddenly the fairy tale begins to unwind

By the time a month had gone by, Peter had settled himself into his internship and was feeling pretty happy. He was making friends with some of the people at the tower. Not the _interns_ – they still were jealous and ignored him because of it – but the doorman was a nice guy who always seemed to have a new joke to tell, and several of the receptionists would take a moment to say hello when he checked in after Happy would drop him off. Too, the people – women, mostly – who handled the 7th floor dining room were also friendly to him and willing to make small talk whenever they weren’t busy.

Peter saw Tony at least two or three days a week at the tower, and one night a week he’d have an evening set aside for spending with the boy. Ostensibly, it was to make sure he was on track with school and the internship – that was what they told _May_ , at least – but really, it was a chance for them to be together in Stark’s apartment.

The internship was going well. Whenever Tony was at the tower, he spent time showing Peter whatever new project he had going at the time. Many of these were simply add-ons for his Ironman suit, but some of the tech Tony did was truly brilliant and held real world applications, once they’d been worked out. Peter was in the thick of the entire process, from concept and design, right up to the final product. It was fulfilling, to say the least.

Tony was also helping him with being Spiderman. He had started working with Peter on a new outfit. One that was more formfitting and would allow more aerodynamics when swinging, and would protect the boy in a tumble – which still occasionally happened. They had to do that in secret, of course, since no one else at the tower knew Peter’s alter ego, but Stark’s workroom was secure so that was where they worked on it and discussed any potential changes.

When Peter wasn't helping Tony, he would sometimes present himself to Pepper Potts, who could always use someone to run errands for her, it seemed. She was the one who pretty much ran Stark Industries, and Peter liked her. She treated him fairly and would always ask him how he was doing, and seemed to know that the other interns weren’t that enthralled with him, because she never asked him to work with any of her own, personal, interns when he was helping her out.

He still saw his own friends at school in the morning and most weekends. May’s friend in Buffalo was doing fine with her baby – unfortunately for Peter’s love-life – and she didn’t have any out of town trips coming up so it was a rare weekend day that the boy was able to spend any amount of time with Tony.

But life was good, he had to admit.

><<<<>>>>><<<<<<><<<<><< 

“Stark’s got himself a girlfriend…”

Peter was in line at the grill in the dining room when he overheard two of the interns in line. He normally ignored them, since their conversation were usually about sports teams that he didn’t watch, or girls that they liked to brag that they were having romantic encounters with, but when he heard Tony’s name it caught his attention.

“Bullshit.”

“I saw her,” the other said, confidently. “Yesterday. Leaning up against him, her hand sliding down his thigh. It wasn't his _grandmother_.”

“She’s probably just a fangirl.”

“She’s hot. And they were in a lip lock that made _my_ underwear too tight, just looking at them.”

“I don’t believe it.”

The first man shrugged.

“Ask the kid,” he suggested, gesturing to Peter, who had been handed the burger he’d been waiting for and was simply stuck behind the two, now. “He’d know.”

Just because they didn’t like Peter, it didn’t mean that they didn’t notice when he was around them.

“What about it, Peter?” the second asked. “Have you seen Stark’s girlfriend?”

“No.”

He brushed past them, wondering if it was true, and went over to sit at his usual table – even though he wasn't hungry at all, suddenly. They were probably just screwing with him, he thought to himself. Of course, none of them knew that he was romantically involved with Tony, so they wouldn’t have any reason to lie, one way or the other. It couldn’t be true, though, Peter thought. Tony hadn’t mentioned that he was unsatisfied with their relationship, and he’d been affectionate and ardent when they’d been together, last.

It was probably a lie. Or maybe the guy had seen something, but it had been innocent.

Peter picked up his backpack and dumped his untouched meal in the garbage, his stomach in knots, suddenly. He left the dining room and headed for the elevator, going to Tony’s workroom. It was empty, but he had known that it would be. The boy sat down at his desk and pulled out a book that he was supposed to read for class, but he was having trouble focusing on any of the words in front of him because of the turmoil in his mind.

“That must be _some_ book.”

He jumped, startled, when a hand came down on his shoulder at the same time Tony spoke.

“What?”

Stark smiled, looking down at him.

“You’ve been staring at that page since I walked in – and you didn’t answer me.”

“I wasn't paying attention,” Peter admitted, blushing. “What did you ask me?”

Tony rolled his eyes, amused.

“I asked what you’re reading, Peter.”

“Oh. _To Kill A Mockingbird_.”

Stark took the book from him, and looked at it before handing it back.

“I’ve read that. It was not that enthralling.”

“Oh. Not. I mean, it’s okay. I was just thinking about something else.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Tony told him, sarcastically, sitting on the edge of Peter’s desk. “What?”

“Nothing.”

The older man cocked his head.

“ _Nothing_? Never play cards, Peter. At least, not for money. Come on. Spill.”

He hesitated, and then shrugged.

“One of the guys said that they saw you kissing a woman, yesterday.”

Stark’s expression didn’t change.

“Yeah. Jessica. _And_ …?”

Peter frowned.

“It’s _true_?”

“Of course.”

“But… I mean. What about me?”

“What about you, Peter?” he asked, confused.

“Is it _serious_?” the boy asked, far more confused than Tony ever could be – and _hurt_ , to boot.

“Of course not. She’s just an easy fuck. Someone to wet my appetite when you’re not around.”

If he thought that that was going to reassure, he was wrong.

“Oh.”

Peter wasn't adept at hiding his feelings, and it showed. Stark found himself annoyed by the fact that he suddenly felt guilty for upsetting the boy, and as was his typical reaction to something like that, he lashed out at those around him. In this case _Peter_.

“Don’t get yourself wound up about this, Peter,” Stark told him. “I’m going to do things that you don’t like and that’s just the way it is. I’ll fuck whoever I want to, whenever I want to.”

It cut him to the quick. Not only the words – which were bad enough, he supposed – but the angry tone and the sudden fury in Tony’s expression. Peter felt his eyes water and he looked away so Tony wouldn’t see it.

“Your internship, your rules…” he said, softly, remembering the conversation that they’d had what seemed forever ago.

“That’s right.”

Peter picked up his backpack and blindly stuffed his book into it, having trouble seeing through the tears blurring his vision, and then standing up.

Stark scowled, reaching out and taking hold of his sweatshirt – and a handful of Peter’s shoulder, without intending to.

“What are you doing?”

The boy brushed him off, easily. Unless Tony was wearing the Ironman suit, he was no match for Peter’s strength.

“I gotta go.”

Without looking back, he headed for the elevator and hit the button. Luckily, the cart was still on their floor from depositing Tony in his workroom and the door opened, immediately.

“Peter. Come back, here. _Now_.”

He ignored the order and the door closed before Tony could make it across the room.

The tears were falling fast and furiously by the time the elevator came to a stop on the ground floor. Peter brushed them away with his sleeve and got out, moving quickly across the lobby of the building until he reached the glass doors that led to the street. Startling the doorman with his unusually quick departure, Peter waved down a taxi, deciding not to wait for the bus and threw himself into the backseat. He gave the driver his address and as they pulled away from the curb, he heard his phone ring.

Still mostly blinded by his stinging eyes, he wiped away another spat of tears and pulled it out. It was Tony’s number on the caller ID. Peter hit decline and put his phone back in his pocket.

 


	26. 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermaths

It was a decidedly distracted looking May Parker who answered the knock at the apartment door.

She was surprised to see Tony Stark standing in the hallway.

“Tony. Hi.”

He gave her a slight smile, his expression unusually serious.

“Hi, May. I’m trying to get hold of Peter, but he isn’t answering his phone. Is he _here_?”

Stark knew he was. The GPS in the watch he’d made for the boy confirmed it.

“Yeah, he _is_ ,” she said, reluctantly. “But he’s _upset_ , Tony.” She looked over her shoulder, as if making sure Peter hadn’t followed him to the door. “I think it must be a _girl_. He won’t tell me what’s wrong,” she added in a near whisper.

“Maybe he’d tell me.”

She shook her head, not budging. The strength and confidence that he admired in her also making her willing to say no to the billionaire when she thought it would be in Peter’s best interest that she did.

“Not right now. I’m sorry. If I can get him calmed down, I’ll have him call you, Okay?”

He didn’t have a choice but to nod. It wasn't like he could break her door down, run her over and then force Peter to talk to him.

“I have a trip,” Tony told her. “An _Avenger’s_ project that I can’t get out of. Would you tell him that I’ll be back in a few days? And tell him I need to talk to him. Please.”

“Of course.”

The door closed and Stark sighed.

The anger that he’d felt in his workroom had drained from him in a rush even before the door closed on the elevator. He’d reacted without thinking, and he’d crushed Peter doing it, that much he’d been able to tell. He probably should have mentioned the woman he was seeing to Peter, sooner, to avoid just the scene that they’d had, but it wasn't in Tony’s nature to explain himself to anyone. Certainly not to a boy.

No matter what that boy meant to him.

Even more, now he wouldn’t have a chance to calm Peter down until he got back. The Avengers were going on a mission – some hush, hush thing that he had planned to tell Peter about when he’d entered the workroom and saw him at his desk reading. He’d smiled in anticipation of seeing Peter’s eyes light up, excitedly, as he tried to wheedle details of the mission from him – which he would have told him, of course.

But things had gone south in a hurry, and now he was going to be gone without smoothing things over.

“Shit.”

Stark headed for the stairs, and the waiting car.

>>><<<<<<<>>>>> 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Peter nodded, looking over the kitchen table and forcing a smile May’s direction. It looked more like a grimace, she decided.

“Yeah. No. I’m fine. I’m… it’s just a _thing_ , May. I’ll be okay.”

“You could stay home today.”

“No. I don’t want to miss my English exam. It’d take forever to make it up. I’m okay.”

“Did you call Tony?”

He shook his head.

“No. Not, yet.”

“You won’t be able to see him,” she reminded her nephew. “He said he’d be gone.”

“I know. I’ll figure it out.”

Peter was numb. There was just no other way to put it, really, but he meant what he said about not missing school, and really, people dealt with broken hearts all the time, right? They probably didn’t miss school because of them. Or their jobs. He’d be fine, now that he’d had a chance to put everything into perspective as he’d lain in bed all night reliving his last conversation with Stark in his mind.

He’d been stupid to think the guy really cared about him, that was all. Tony was good at lying to people. He’d just lied to _Peter_ , too, was all. Wined and dined him (without the wine) and made him feel special. The boy just couldn’t understand why he’d _bothered_ to do it. Yes, there was sex, but Tony was good looking and rich. And he’d already shown that he could have sex with anyone, right? Why bother to single Peter out and string him along?

It didn’t matter in the end, he supposed. He’d signed up for the internship and he was committed to it. He had a few days to get through before Stark returned. By then… well, he wasn't really sure how he’d deal with Tony’s return. Maybe Stark would just ignore him. Or send him to the R&D floor as a full time intern, there. He didn’t know.

May got up, hugged him from behind as she walked by his chair and kissed his cheek

“If you have any problems today, you call me,” she told him. “I’ll come running, and we’ll have hot fudge sundaes and talk about girl-troubles.”

“Thanks, May.”

He got himself ready, and made it to the bus just before it drove off.

><<<<>>>>>>><<<<<< 

Happy was waiting in the usual place at the usual time when Peter walked out of the school. The driver never got out of the car to open his door, and he would always roll his eyes when Peter got into the front seat beside him – which he was certain the boy did on purpose, just to annoy him. He frowned, though, when Peter said a mumbled hello and got into the backseat, surprising him enough that Happy looked in the rearview mirror.

“Are you alright?”

The boy nodded, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He didn’t _look_ alright, the driver decided, starting the car and pulling into traffic. He looked pale, and even though he was trying to hide it, he looked upset. Not _angry_ upset, but _sad_ upset. Happy wondered if there had been a loss of a family member, or something like that, that Peter wasn't willing to share.

“Need to stop anywhere?”

“No, thank you.”

The boy was silent on the way to the tower. Not unusual, but it was usually Happy that encouraged the silence. This time it was Peter who provided vague one-worded responses to the driver’s few comments. When the car pulled up to the curb, the boy seemed relieved, and he got out without a word except for a brief thank you, and hurried into the building.

Instead of stopping to eat – he didn’t feel like he’d be able to hold anything down, anyway, Peter just headed to the elevator. He reached Stark’s workroom and closed the door behind him and then walked over and sat at the desk, leaning over and resting his forehead on the cool wood surface for a long time before he reached out and turned on his computer to check emails and see what he was scheduled for that afternoon.

There were three emails from Tony. He read them to see if they mentioned schedules, but they were only inane notes telling him that he was sorry and that they’d talk about it later – when he returned from his trip. Peter wasn't fooled for a minute. Tony might say he was _sorry_ , but he didn’t mean it. He’d meant what he’d said about doing whatever he wanted, and it was the only thing the boy was absolutely certain of, really.

He deleted the messages and read the one from Pepper Potts, asking for his assistance that afternoon since she knew Tony wouldn’t be there. Thinking that it would be a good distraction, and much better than hiding here in a room filled with fond memories, Peter locked his computer and headed for her office.

>>>><<<<><<><>>>>><< 

“Hi, Miss Potts,” Peter said, walking across her office.

Pepper frowned when she saw him. Like Happy, she was accustomed to the boy’s unending cheerfulness, and the sad kid standing by her desk was the polar opposite. He was smiling; it was a forced smile that didn’t light up his eyes or his expression, though. She saw lingering hurt in his eyes, and he was pale – even for him. _Unlike_ Happy, she was the CEO of the company, and technically Peter’s boss. So she was willing to pry.

“Peter,” she said, giving him her most sincere look – which it _was_. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

The denial died on his lips at her concerned expression, and Peter’s eyes filled with tears. He shook his head, trying to speak around the large lump that was in his throat, but nothing came out. With a soft anxious noise, Pepper stood up and put her arms around him, forgetting for the moment that he was an intern and she was the boss – and the boss doesn’t comfort sad interns. Instead, she was someone comforting a hurting youth, who looked like he’d suddenly lost his best friend. Knowing just how much hurt he’d already had in his young life, Pepper wasn't above trying to ease whatever it was that had him upset, and Peter was too overwhelmed by the events to do more than break down in her arms and cry out his sorrow on her shoulder.

Only when he stopped shaking did she pull away, and she handed him a tissue, which he used to wipe his eyes and blow his nose.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered out.

“Is your aunt alright?” Pepper asked him, gesturing for him to sit on the edge of her desk.

He nodded, looking embarrassed, now, but not as upset as he had.

“Yes. This isn’t…” he took a deep breath. “It’s just _relationship_ stuff,” he admitted. “I know I shouldn’t bring it to work, and I _tried_ not to but it…”

Peter trailed off, aware that he was babbling, and Pepper smiled at him and gave him another tissue. At least now she knew why he was upset. Girl troubles were always tough – probably magnified by being fifteen.

“It’s okay. Sometimes it helps to cry.”

“Yeah.”

“Feel better?”

He nodded, still looking embarrassed.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, do me a favor and go find Dr. Giovonne, will you? He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago and I can’t get a response from him from calling _or_ texting”

The boy smiled, grateful to her for not making a big deal out of things.

“His phone is probably dead, again,” Peter said, getting off the desk and stuffing his soaked tissues in his pocket. “I’ll go find him and a charger.”

“Thank you. And let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and left, feeling a little better than he had, and Pepper watched him go, thinking that teenaged girls could be terrible.

 

 


	27. 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For his own good

“You need to talk to your intern.”

Tony Stark scowled.

“Why good morning, Miss Potts. Yes, I had a good trip, thank you very much for asking.”

“Since you didn’t call asking for bail money, I assumed everything was fine,” she replied, unrepentant.

“What’s wrong with Peter?”

As if he _didn’t_ know.

Her expression, usually cynical when dealing with him, turned soft, and concerned.

“Someone’s broken that boy, Tony,” she told him, seriously. “The first day, I assumed a good cry and he’d start seeing the bright side of things. But it’s been four days, now, and I have to admit, I’m a little worried about him.”

“His aunt-“

“Is just as concerned,” Pepper interrupted. “I’ve already spoken to her. She’s at a loss. _He_ says it’s a relationship issue and he’s fine, but he clearly _isn’t_. There have been night terrors, and panic attacks. He isn’t sleeping, and she says he isn’t eating.”

“What am _I_ supposed to do?”

Of course, he’d sent the boy a hundred text messages, had called him, and had emailed him several times over the course of the trip, and none had been replied to – and the calls had actually been declined and hadn’t even gone to voicemail, and the emails had been deleted without being read. Peter was ignoring him – and Stark was aware that he deserved the cold shoulder he was getting.

“Well, he responds to you,” Pepper pointed out. “It’s _Friday_. Take him home and straighten him out. Have a man to man talk with him over the grill or something.”

He almost snorted in disbelief. _That_ wasn't going to work, now was it?

“I don’t think he’ll want…” he trailed off, and decided that maybe it wasn't such a terrible idea, after all. If May sanctioned it, Peter would pretty much _have_ to go – he wouldn’t be able to object without them wanting to know why he was refusing, and then Tony would have him where he could talk to him. He’d _have_ to listen. Maybe. “Why don’t you call May and see if she’ll sign off on me taking him for the weekend? A day to relax him, and then a day to talk it out with him – whether he likes it or not?”

She nodded. It was a good idea – although she was surprised he was willing to go to that much trouble – even though she had seen moments between Tony and Peter where there might have been affection. Maybe even Tony could grow to care for someone besides himself. A little, anyway.

“I’ll make a call.”

>>><<<<<<<<>>>>>> 

Peter froze when he walked out of the school and saw Tony’s car waiting for him instead of Happy. Even worse, Stark was waiting, standing by the passenger side door, looking incredible in his tailored suit and what looked like a fresh haircut.

“Come on, Peter,” Tony called, gesturing. “Let’s go.”

The boy shook his head and turned away. He couldn’t handle the confrontation just then. He was too tired, and too off balance. And he _knew_ it. He’d just go home. May wouldn’t mind. It was the weekend. He could lay on the couch and maybe she’d let him put his head in her lap like he’d done so often when he was a kid and he could close his eyes and just pretend that the world was still a happy place.

Of course, it hadn’t been a happy place, _then_ , either, he reminded himself.

He heard him jogging over and found his way blocked by Stark.

“Move, Tony.”

“I can’t, Peter,” Tony said, truly distressed by how Peter looked. He was haggard. Eyes red, either from lack of sleep, or crying, it didn’t matter. His face was a little thinner, as well – although the kid didn’t have a lot of extra meat on him in the first place. It was the dead expression that really stopped him, though, and Stark started to reach his hand out to Peter’s shoulder, but pulled it back. “I’ve been sent to pick you up.”

“Where’s Happy?”

“He had other things that he had to do. Come on.”

“No.”

Peter’s days of doing what he was told were done.

“Peter. Listen to me.”

“No.”

Stark scowled, his concern being completely run over by a surge of annoyance. The boy was so _stubborn_!

“Get in my fucking car, or I’ll tell May that you’re Spiderman.”

Peter’s chin came up, defiantly.

“And I’ll tell her about us.”

“And we’ll both be having bad days,” Tony conceded. “But I’ll _do_ it. I shit you not. Even if it ruins me.”

The boy stared at him, a spark of anger in his expression as he and Stark locked eyes in a silent battle of _will he, won’t he_ and Peter finally backed down, first. He made a noncommittal noise and turned back toward the waiting automobile.

Stark took a deep breath, thinking that he was out of his mind, and followed.

>><<<<<<>>>><<> 

“You missed your turn.”

“We’re not going to the tower.”

“What?”

“Your aunt and Miss Potts have both decided that what is best for you is for me to talk to you, man to man, about whatever it is that has leveled you. Since _I’m_ that thing – and they don’t know it – I didn’t have any way to tell them just how bad of an idea it truly was. So, whether you like it or not, you are coming to my house for the weekend.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

Peter was too tired to maintain his indifferent expression, so he turned away completely, looking out the window of the car.

“Take me home, Tony,” he said, his voice so exhausted that it made Stark tired, too.

“I am.”

“ _My_ home.”

“I can’t. May doesn’t want to hear from _you_ until Sunday, and if _I_ show up before then, Pepper will never let me hear the end of it. So you’re stuck with me.”

Peter didn’t reply. Which Stark took as capitulation. He didn’t say anything as they drove out of the city and along the winding road that led to his home, but he was very much aware of the boy in the seat beside him. Aware as well when Peter fell asleep, lulled by the powerful thrumming of the car’s engine and the soft music playing through its stereo.

He didn’t wake immediately when they pulled into the driveway, and lurched like a drunken sailor when Tony finally shook his shoulder until he opened his eyes and then pulled him bodily out of the car. Grabbing the prepacked overnight bag that May had sent along, Stark put a steadying arm around the boy and guided him into the front door, across the living room and to the guest room. He pressed him down onto the bed and dropped the bag on the floor under the window. Then he simply took Peter’s shoes off and covered him with the blankets, although it wasn't chilly.

“We’ll talk later,” Tony murmured, brushing a hand against the boy’s cheek before he walked out and crossed to his own room to change out of the suit he was wearing and into some jeans and a t-shirt.

>>><<<<<>><<>>< 

_“Well?”_

Stark looked at the images of both women in the conference call with him, and shrugged.

“He wasn't happy with the idea of being forced into anything,” he admitted.

_“But he went?_ ” May asked.

“Yeah. He fell asleep on the way here, and I just put him into the guest room. As beat as he looks, he’ll probably just sleep all weekend.”

_“He needs it,_ ” Pepper pointed out.

_“Agreed.”_

Tony shrugged.

“If he wakes up, I’ll bring him home Sunday.”

_“If he sleeps all weekend just keep him a little longer,”_ May suggested. _“If you don’t mind, that is. I’d like whatever it is that’s bothering him out, and if that means that he misses a few days of school, then so be it.”_

_“Same with the internship,”_ Pepper agreed.

God, they were killing him, Tony thought with a silent sigh and a scowl he forced himself not to show.

“And if he doesn’t _want_ to stay?” he asked.

_“You’re a smooth talker,”_ Pepper said. _“Convince him.”_

The call ended, and Stark bit back a curse. He looked over at the guest room door, and then sighed and headed for the kitchen. Something to eat was definitely in the plan.

 

 

 

 

 


	28. 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sleep is a good thing

A hand was caressing his cheek. A touch so achingly familiar that it sent a physical pang through him at the reminder of what he’d lost. Peter moaned, softly, and Tony stroked the boy’s temple with his thumb, his hand never leaving the cheek it was resting against.

“Easy, Peter.”

He opened his eyes, owlishly, looking around without moving his head. He recognized the guest room in Tony's house, and, of course, the man sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Tony…”

“Shhh.” Something was pressed against his lips. “Open.”

When he obeyed a chunk of watermelon was slipped into his mouth. Peter swallowed it, and closed his eyes, again.

“Don’t go to sleep,” Stark told him. Another chunk of melon was presented, and Peter turned his head.

“Stop.”

“Eat it, and I will.”

“No.”

He heard him take a breath. Knew he was going to say something cruel – or maybe just mean, Peter wasn't sure. He was surprised, then, when the hand returned to his cheek.

“You need to eat something, Peter.”

Tony’s tone was coaxing, but the boy shook his head.

“No.”

“You’re going to starve yourself to punish me?”

“You don’t _care_ about me,” Peter reminded him, bitterly. “How would it punish you?”

“Of _course_ I care about you.”

He shook his head, the tears already welling up in his eyes and sliding down his cheek and his nose.

“No.”

“Peter…” he felt himself being gathered up into Stark’s arms. Felt the older man rest his chin on his head and rock him. “I _love_ you.”

He closed his eyes and sobbed. Had he heard that a week ago, it would have been the most amazing three words, _ever_. Now it was just a cruelty. He was being sweet-talked. Nothing more. Tony could _say_ it, because it didn’t mean anything to him. Or because he was a much better liar than Peter was. He didn’t know why he was bothering, though, unless it was because Miss Potts was making him.

He was too tired to struggle against the arms that were holding him. Too overwhelmed. Or maybe he didn’t want to struggle. But he didn’t return the embrace and as soon as he could speak, again, he did.

“I don’t believe you.”

There was silence for a long time. Long enough that Peter had started to fall asleep, again.

“I know. But you _will_. I’ll make you.”

Peter shook his head. He knew better. Tony couldn’t make him do _anything_ , now. The days of them exploring what he could do with his spider powers had given him some confidence when it came to using them, and Peter knew some of what he could do, now – although there had still been a lot they hadn’t touched upon, Stark had told him.

Peter fell asleep before he could tell Tony not to bother trying.

Tony had surprised himself with the admission. He’d been touching on it here and there, he knew, over the past month or so. It had been nagging in his mind – usually in those moments when he’d watched Peter do something that had made the boy smile that particularly charming way that he had about him, or when he’d be holding him in a quiet moment, like he was just then. But he hadn’t said it _aloud_. Not even to himself in the privacy of his home. It wasn't something that he cared to admit, and it was a scary thought. A commitment to someone other than himself.

Tony Stark didn’t do commitment well.

So, typically for him, he’d gone the other route – either subconsciously deciding to ruin what he had before it could become more than he was willing to accept, or maybe completely on _purpose_ , just to test himself and that commitment – and he’d found himself another lover.

She _wasn't_ , though. A _lover_. They’d had sex – like he told Peter; he’d fuck whoever he wanted to – but it hadn’t been as tender and loving as what he had with Peter. And it hadn’t been bareback, since Tony was being _stupid_ , but he wasn't dumb enough to risk a paternity suit nine months down the road, or to risk himself – or God, forbid, _Peter_ – to some unknown diseases, even though she’d said she was clean.

“I love you…”

It still sounded unreal, and Stark looked down at the young man sleeping in his arms, his expression etched in exhaustion and even pain – as if he were anxious, even while sleeping. Which, Tony knew, he probably _was_. And this was his fault. But he could fix it. He was a _genius_ , after all. One thing he’d learned – or maybe had at least decided to ignore if it wasn't true – _everything_ had a solution. It was just a matter of time and patience. Tony had time. He was still learning patience.

But the result would be worth it.

He held Peter’s sleeping form for a while, until his back started to ache from the awkward angle, then he settled him back into the bed, once more covering him. This time he brushed a kiss against that furrowed brow before getting up. Peter mumbled something in his sleep, but was silent in moments, and Tony picked up the tray he’d brought in, and left the boy to his sleep.

<<><<<<<>><><><<<> 

It was biology that pulled Peter from his troubled dreams.

Images of all the people in his life that had come and gone. His parents, most noticeably, although he didn’t remember them as well as he would have liked, and his uncle. Now Tony.

He woke with tears in his eyes, but his bladder didn’t care that his heart was aching. The boy groaned as he moved, stiff from being in the same position for so long – which made him think that he’d been asleep for some time. The sky outside the window was dark, he noticed, as he rolled out of the bed, but he’d stopped wearing the watch that Tony had made him and didn’t have his phone in hand to confirm what time it was.

Peter went into the bathroom adjoining the guest bedroom and took care of his bladder, and then while he was washing his hands, he decided to wash his face and neck, too. Every part of him felt gritty. He looked in the mirror and decided that he _looked_ gritty, too. And not the cool _John Wayne_ kind of gritty, either. His face looked a lot older than he was. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles under them, and his hair was messy – although that could have been from sleeping, of course.

He was a wreck.

When he came out of the bathroom, he was brought up short, once again. Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed that he’d just vacated, hands in his lap, clearly waiting for him. He was dressed in lounge pants and a t-shirt, but was barefoot. There was a tray on the stand by the bed, holding pasta and bread with a bottle of water.

“You look like shit, Peter,” he told the boy.

“Yeah.”

“May packed you some clothes. I don’t know if she thought of something to sleep in, but you should change into something more comfortable before going back to bed.”

Peter hadn’t moved from the doorway of the bathroom, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. He almost said no, just to reiterate the fact that Tony wasn't in charge, but that would have been stupid – and would have picked a fight that he wasn't ready to battle, just then.

“I will.”

“And eat something, okay?” Stark stood up, as if aware that the boy wasn't going to move over to the bed while he was sitting on it. “I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.”

He left – without closing the door, the boy noticed – and Peter walked over and sat down on the bed once more. He reached for one of the slices of bread and nibbled on it. Suddenly ravenous, he stuffed the whole slice in his mouth and chewed it, hungrily, and then brought the tray closer and made short work of the meal. While he was eating, he noticed the small rucksack that he recognized as his own, and when he was finished eating, he moved the tray and retrieved it.

Ten minutes later, he’d changed into sweats and a clean t-shirt and felt a little better. More comfortable, anyway. He climbed back into the bed, feeling exhausted from just the effort of eating and changing. Peter sighed, and closed his eyes, and must have drifted off, because he suddenly felt a hand on his forehead that startled him.

“Relax,” Tony told him, sitting down on the edge of the bed once more, trapping Peter under the blanket since he was now sitting on them, holding him in place, although not intentionally. He noticed the empty dishes with approval, and then met Peter’s tired gaze. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah.”

“You look tired. It’s late.” His eyes glanced down, and narrowed a little when he noticed that Peter wasn't wearing the GPS watch he’d made him. “Get some sleep, alright? If you need me, you know where to find me.”

Peter was still trying to decide if there was any double meaning intended in that statement when Stark brushed his fingers against his cheek and got up and left, taking the tray with him. He felt an ache inside him that had nothing to do with the way that he’d wolfed his dinner, but forced it down and went back to sleep.

 

 


	29. 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning

It was morning when he woke, next. A glance out the window showed the day was gray and the rain lashing against the glass clearly pointed out that it wasn't a day to go for a walk. Peter wondered, idly, if the goats outside had a shelter for them to get out of the rain. He got out of bed, feeling a little less stiff than before and not as tired. He was young and had stamina even beyond that of a normal teen, which helped his body replenish itself at a quicker rate. He walked over to the window, leaning against it, arms folded across his chest and watching the rain coming down but not really doing more than daydreaming.

“Are you hungry?”

Startled, he turned and found Tony close enough to touch him – even though he wasn't. He recognized the desire that was suddenly in the older man’s expression, though, and felt his loins tighten as his body responded, automatically. The _interest_ was still there. That much was certain. Peter turned back to the window, hiding that reaction from Stark.

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you come help me make breakfast?”

“You should just take me home, Tony…” Peter told him.

Stark moved to stand behind Peter, and despite the fact that he knew he shouldn’t, he slid his arms around the slender frame of the boy, holding him from behind and putting his cheek against Peter’s. Peter tensed at the embrace, but he didn’t move away, and Tony allowed his hands to slide lower, along the boy’s t-shirt and to the waistband of his sweats.

“Come make breakfast,” Stark repeated, whispering in Peter’s ear. “Or I’m going to have to swallow something else.”

Peter whimpered, and Tony slid a hand into his sweats, finding his swollen cock and stroking it, tenderly, reminding Peter just how talented his fingers were as he roused Peter’s ardor with practiced ease. Desire beat out common sense, and Tony turned the boy and dropped to his knees in front of him, dragging the sweats down as he went, freeing Peter’s cock from the confining fabric. Before the boy could say anything, Stark had him in his mouth, deepthroating his entire quivering length before moving back just enough to allow his tongue to slide the swollen length of him and his hand began caressing his balls.

Peter’s hips were jerking, his hand going to Stark’s head to hold him in place as he tensed and then came almost immediately, fucking his cock into Tony’s willing mouth and driving his cum into him in spurts. Tony sucked him until he was finished and then licked him clean, bathing his cock in wet caresses while Peter watched, dazed.

When he was done, Tony stood up, and pulled the sweats back up to cover Peter, once more. Then he kissed him, tenderly, but pulled back before Peter could respond one way or another.

“I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Mystified at best, Peter watched him go, a million thoughts racing through his mind as he felt his cock twitch a couple of times in response to what had just happened.

<<<<><<<>>><> 

When he walked out of the guest room a few minutes later, Tony was in the kitchen just as he’d said he’d be. Still wearing what he had slept in, he was alternating between the island and the fridge, pulling ingredients out to make omelets. He looked up when Peter walked over, but was distracted by whatever he was looking for in the fridge.

“Chop the ham.”

Peter picked up the knife and started doing what he was told, not catching Stark’s eye.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Tony.”

“Why? I wanted to. You enjoyed it.”

“Because it’s not right.”

Stark frowned.

“Because of the age difference? That’s never bothered you be-“

“Because you're seeing someone _else_ ,” Peter interrupted, sudden, hot tears blinding him.

“I’m not _seeing_ her, Peter. It’s just sex.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“No, it-“

“You don’t _get_ it,” Peter cried, wincing when he sliced his hand as the knife slipped and then clattered to the marble top of the island. “I can’t…” he trailed off, sticking his mouth against the cut on the fat part of the heel of his left hand, tasting blood.

Tony was right there, reaching for him.

“You cut yourself?”

“It’s fine.”

“Peter…”

“Look, you want me to only be with you, right?”

It was one of the first things Tony had told him. And wasn't a problem, since lovers weren’t exactly beating down the door to get to Peter Parker.

“Of course.”

“But _you_ can go out and screw anyone you want.”

“Jesus, Peter, _listen_ to yourself. It’s not _like_ that. I-“

“Then what’s it _like_?” he asked, wiping his eyes, smearing blood along his cheek. “Because all I see is you showing me that I’m _yours_ but you’re not willing to-“

“ _Stop_.” Stark had a wet towel in his hand and reached for the bleeding hand. He was annoyed with the boy, and couldn’t smother it down. The _whelp_. Trying to tell him what to do – _again_. For someone so scrawny, he certainly liked having his own way. _All the time_. “Let me see.”

Peter held his hand still and let Tony wash away the blood, tears of frustration still trailing down his cheeks. He didn’t get it, and _wouldn’t_ get it, most likely. Stark looked up from the hand and frowned at the blood smearing his cheek, as well.

“Did you cut your face, too?” he asked, bringing the towel up to wipe the boy’s cheek, but not seeing any wound.

“No.” He pulled away. “I’m fine.”

“There’s a first aid kit in my bathroom. Go get a couple of bandaids and we’ll get it taken care of.”

Peter did as he was told, and Stark watched him leave.

Stupid kid, he thought, still annoyed as he started chopping the ham. If he didn’t love him so damn much, he’d just throw him out in the rain and make him walk his ass home. Naked.

>><<<>><<<<>><> 

They ate breakfast at the island, but there wasn't a lot of conversation.

Tony was still angry and knew if he opened his mouth, he’d say something that would probably set Peter off, which wouldn’t do them any good. He didn’t have a lot of time alone with him, really – although he could probably stretch it into the middle of the week if he could get Peter to agree – and he wanted to get their relationship back on track. Wanted the boy to figure out that whatever _he_ thought was wrong, and that he _did_ care about him.

If Peter would just stop being so fucking sensitive about Jessica, it’d be a lot easier.          

Peter didn’t say anything, either. He was silent as he ate his breakfast, very much aware of the man sitting beside him and wishing that things were different. He painfully understood the phrase _ignorance is bliss_ , now, but knew that he couldn’t pretend to be alright with how things were, just then. The excitement was there – he’d proven that in about two minutes on his knees in front of Peter – but he felt unappreciated and honestly just unwanted – never mind the whole _I love you_ statement that had come out of the blue. If Tony needed him, then he wouldn’t need anyone else, would he?

Silent tears would occasionally trickle down Peter’s cheek, and he’d use his shoulder to wipe them away, surreptitiously, but the action wasn't lost on Tony, who finally pushed his plate away and stood up, pushed his barstool aside and put his arms around Peter, startling him.

“I don’t like to see you upset,” he murmured, looking down at him.

Peter sniffed, feeling the embrace starting to be his undoing and fighting back the tears as much as he could. It didn’t work, of course. It hadn’t with Pepper, and she was practically a stranger compared to Tony. He leaned forward, closing his eyes as he buried his face into Stark’s stomach and cried.

Only when Peter’s shoulders stopped shaking did Stark move to pull away, and then all he did was put a hand under his arm and guide him to the living room. He settled Peter on the couch and silently handed him the remote, then he went into his room and pulled the comforter off the bed. With an easy motion, he joined the boy on the sofa, covered them both up and then brought the boy’s head against his chest and held him.

Peter tensed, but when it became clear that Tony wasn't planning on doing anything other than sit beside him and hold him, he finally managed to relax and watch the movie. Eventually, he fell asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	30. 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's storming... in more ways than one

When Tony woke he found that he was alone. Considering he’d fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around Peter, it was a bit of a surprise – and a concern. He sat up, pushing the comforter off and looked around. The TV was off. The movie must have ended, and Peter must have woken and turned it off before going wherever he’d gone. Tony looked at his watch when he got up. After 2pm. A glance out the sliding door that led to the back showed that it was still raining, hard.

He walked over and glanced into the guest room, but Peter wasn't in there. He wasn't in the game room or the main bathroom or even Tony’s bedroom, either. Concerned that maybe the boy had decided to leave, Tony checked the external security cameras and saw a lone figure standing out in the rear, well away from the closest shelter, which was the pool house. He was looking toward the walking trails they frequently used whenever they had an afternoon together.

Stark muttered an obscenity under his breath and went into his bedroom for shoes, then put a sweatshirt on and grabbed an umbrella before letting himself out the sliding door. What was the kid thinking? He was going to catch a cold on top of everything else – and probably give it to everyone around him, to boot. Tony didn’t like getting sick. Trudging through the rain and wind – and it was _really_ storming – Stark made his way to where Peter was standing. He noticed that while Peter didn’t have an umbrella, he’d been smart enough to grab a jacket that had been hanging by the door on his way out.

_Tony’s_ jacket, but that was fine.

“Are you out of your mind?” he asked, coming up behind Peter, scowling.

The boy turned, surprised.

“What?”

“It’s _raining_ , Peter – and freezing. What are you _doing_ out here?”

“I was wondering where the goats go when it rains.”

“What?”

“The _goats_ ,” Peter repeated. “Do they have a barn?”

He started to ask _who cares_ , but he knew _Peter_ cared, or he wouldn’t be asking.

“They have a little shed they can go to. The grounds people make sure there’s always someplace for them to go – to avoid bad weather and predators at night. They’re _fine_ , Peter. Come inside before you catch a cold.”

“I’m not going to catch a cold. It’s not that cold out here.”

“Why are you _arguing_ with me?”

“I’m _not_. I was just telling you that it’s not that cold out here. Why are you being so touchy?”

“Because you're driving me _crazy_.”

“I didn’t want to be here in the first place, remember?”

“What’s the first rule of this relationship? Of the _internship_?” Tony snapped. “ _Obedience_. Remember? If I tell you to do something, you’re to do it. That was the promise that _you made_. Remember?”

“And you promised not to _hurt_ me,” Peter replied, his own anger cresting, as well. “So, we’re even, aren’t we?”

He turned on his heel and stalked back to the house, pulling his wet shoes and socks off at the sliding door, as well as hanging up the borrowed jacket. Then he headed into the guest room to find something dry to wear since the jacket hadn’t been waterproof by any means and he was soaked through, head to toe.

Peter was sitting on the foot of the bed with his shirt off and his jeans and boxers tangled around his knees, trying to pull his water-logged jeans off and having a heck of a time doing it, when Tony stormed into the room, not finished with the conversation that they’d been having.

“What did I tell you about walking away from me?” he asked.

“You _told_ me to go inside,” Peter reminded him, tugging on the leg of his jeans and feeling almost foolish sitting half-naked on the bed with his leg stuck in his own pants. “So, I went _inside_. Make up your mind, Tony; do I obey you, or do I walk away from you?”

“You obey me.” Realizing what he was doing, and distracted from his anger by it, Tony reached over and took hold of the bottom of the leg that was stuck and helped him pull his jeans the rest of the way off. “You _always_ obey me.”

“Fine.”

Stark sighed, forcing down his annoyance.

“I’m sorry if your feelings are hurt. I didn’t mean-“

“ _You’re sorry if my_ \- You’re having an _affair_ , Tony, How did you _think_ I would f-“

“It’s not an _affair_ , Peter. We’re not _married_ , for Christ’s sake. Besides, I _never_ promised to be exclusive to-“

_“Whatever.”_

He got up and rummaged through the bag May had packed him, looking for something dry to put on, but he was running out of clothes fairly quickly. She hadn’t packed much. He pulled out the pair of sweats from earlier and slid them on.

Predictably, that age-old teenage comeback didn’t impress Stark.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he told the boy.

Peter turned around. He was angry, now. And hurt, of course.

“Does she like to be tied up, Tony?” he asked. “ _Blindfolded_? Can she fit you into her mouth?”

He realized what he meant. His anger drained out like water from a drain in a tub and sat down on the bed.

“it isn’t like that, Peter,” he said, softly. “Me having sex with her has nothing to do with you. It’s a different kind of sex.”

“Better?”

“No. _Different_. I love _you_.”

“Until someone else comes along…”

“ _Always_.”

Peter shook his head, still not able to believe that, even though Tony looked sincere. He was good at being sincere. Peter knew that.

“I need a dry shirt.”

If he was bothered by the change of topic, it didn’t show. Stark stood up and moved to where Peter was standing. He ran gentle fingers along the boy’s cheek, down his jaw, his neck and then down his chest and to his belly.

“You know where my room is,” he reminded him. “Help yourself to whatever you want. You’re cold, though, so I’m going to ask you – _nicely_ – to please take a warm shower, too, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tony bent his head and kissed him; butterfly kisses to either side of his mouth and then fully on the lips. Peter sighed and opened his mouth for the tongue that seeking access, and Stark deepened the kiss as soon as he did, gathering Peter into his embrace and holding him for a long moment while his mouth broke contact with the boy’s lips and explored the rest of his face, then his ear, jaw and neck – careful as always not to leave any marks.

His hand slid into Peter’s sweats, and he smiled to himself at the proof he found that the boy wasn't immune to him. He knew that, already, though. He _counted_ on it, really. Because he still had to figure out a way to prove himself, and he couldn’t do that if he couldn’t rouse Peter to allow him access to him.

“I’m going to go start dinner – unless you want me in the shower with you…?”

It was a little early for dinner, but they’d missed lunch, and Tony was hungry and had to assume Peter was, as well. It wouldn’t hurt to have an early dinner, and maybe a snack later if they needed something.

“I’ll come help you with dinner when I’m done.”

It wasn't the answer either of them wanted him to give, but Tony just nodded and withdrew his hand.

He had time.

“Don’t hurry. I’d rather you had a chance to warm up. Find a sweatshirt, or something, too. _Please_.”

He was learning how to make Peter do what he wanted, after all.

"Okay."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	31. 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dinner - with a twist at dessert

When Peter came out of Tony’s room half an hour later, he was still a little damp from the shower, and was now wearing lounge pants he’d taken from Stark’s dresser and a sweatshirt with a SHIELD logo on it that he’d found hanging in the closet. Both items of clothing were too big for him, but he didn’t mind, and he liked the sweatshirt enough to wonder if Tony would let him keep it.

Stark smiled his approval at the boy when he walked over to the kitchen to join him.

“Much better,” he said, sliding a hand along the boy’s face, and then under the sweatshirt – checking to make sure he was warm, _not_ groping him. “Hungry?”

“What are you making?”

“Meatloaf. It’s in the oven and will be ready in about half an hour. You’re not going to starve between now and then?”

“I can wait.”

“Good.” He sat the boy at the island and brushed his hand along his damp bangs. “I have a request. And I don’t know how to phrase it, so if I do it wrong, please understand that I am _not_ trying to antagonize you and feel free to change the verbiage in your mind however you need to in order for it to not get your hackles up.”

Peter nodded. That was fair.

“Okay.”

“I’d like to have a nice evening with you. No arguing. No dirty looks, or snide comments. I will keep mine to myself, and was hoping that you’d be willing to do the same. We can pick up again tomorrow where we left off.”

That wasn't unreasonable, really, and Peter preferred it. Arguing was tiring, at the best of times, and verbal confrontations with Tony Stark were doubly so. He had almost fallen asleep in the shower, worn down from his week and not having a chance to recharge when he always seemed to be on his toes – and his guard – around Tony, lately. Peter could use a break, truth be told.

If Tony was willing, so was he.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “I’d like that, Tony.”

“Good. Now help me peel potatoes, will you?”

“Why are you peeling potatoes?”

“To make mashed potatoes to go with the meatloaf.”

“You know how to make mashed potatoes?”

“Of course I do, Peter,” Stark told him, pulling a small bowl of potatoes from the counter and setting them on the island. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah. You boil water and open the box.”

Tony rolled his eyes, and handed him a paring knife.

“Try not to cut yourself, alright?”

“No promises.”

>><<<<>><><>< 

He didn’t cut himself. Of course, he wasn't very good at peeling potatoes, either, so a potato that _he_ peeled would end up with a finished product that was a lot smaller than a similar sized potato that Tony peeled. Stark teased him about it, good-naturedly, and eventually cut the potatoes into chunks and set them to boiling on the stove.

“Come on,” he said, taking Peter’s hand when they’d cleaned everything up. “We have some time while they’re boiling.”

He led the boy over to the sofa and pushed him down into the soft leather. Peter was a little surprised when he put himself between his knees on the floor instead of sitting next to him.

“What are you doing, Tony?” he asked.

“Appetizer…”

Since he had a truce, of sorts, Stark wasn't going to let it go to waste. Without another word, he pulled down the front of Peter’s baggy lounge pants. His hands went around the boy’s hips and he lowered his head and kissed Peter’s flaccid penis, which immediately showed signs of interest in the proceedings.

“Tony…”

“No arguments, remember?”

It hadn’t been exactly what Peter had meant when he’d agreed to it, but he didn’t want to argue, and it was pretty much impossible to pull away from Tony by then, anyway. Peter closed his eyes and gave himself up to the sensation and soon Tony had him fully aroused and was now taking him into his throat, deeply, humming with every pass the head of Peter’s cock made as it went near his vocal cords and forcing Peter’s hips to start moving on their own, trying to drive deeper and deeper into him with each thrust.

He came with a grunt, his hands gripping the leather of the sofa and his head thrown back with his eyes closed, thoroughly engaged in the activity by then. Tony made an approving sound and swallowed him, easily, his lips and tongue milking the boy for everything he had before he finally took a few more loving licks and then pulled his head away.

“Much better than arguing,” he confirmed, pulling the lounge pants back up and tying the drawstring once more to keep them from slipping. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah.”

Peter hadn’t opened his eyes, but he felt Stark get to his feet and then felt Tony’s lips brush his own and kissed him, willingly, tasting himself on the older man.

“You’re _amazing_ , Peter,” Stark whispered into his ear, making the boy shiver, despite the warm room and the sweatshirt that he was wearing. “I’m going to go check the potatoes.”

The boy shook his head, opening his eyes and watching as Tony crossed the room and busied himself in the kitchen. By the time he felt he was able to stand again, Tony was using a hand held mixer on the potatoes in the kettle and Peter came over to lean against the counter and watch, fascinated despite himself.

“What else did you put in them?” he asked, curiously, noticing that there was a butter wrapper and a carton of milk on the counter next to the stove.

“Sour cream, milk, butter and salt and pepper,” came the reply. “Finish mixing these for me, will you? I want to pull the meatloaf.”

Peter took over and did as he was told, awkwardly handling the small appliance. He had to admit, though, that his mouth was watering at the odors coming from the oven. Tony Stark was a lot of things, and not all of them were flattering, but the man knew how to cook.

The boy showed his potatoes to Stark, who nodded his approval, and told him to get the salad ready while he cut up their meatloaf. Getting the salad ready wasn't as impressive or complicated as it sounded; it involved pulling a bowl from the cupboard and filling it with salad mix from a bag in the fridge. Peter excelled at it.

They ate in comfortable silence, which was a huge difference from their breakfast, and when they were done, Peter shooed Stark away, telling him that he’d clean up since Tony had done the cooking.

“You sure? I don’t mind.”

“I know. I don’t, either. It was _good_.”

“But-“

“No arguing, remember?”

Tony smiled, and shrugged. If that was what he wanted. He didn’t leave immediately, though, and he took hold of the front of the sweatshirt Peter was wearing and used that grip to pull the boy against him, kissing him, hungrily. To his delight, Peter leaned into him, deepening the kiss with a soft moan that made Stark’s cock pop to attention almost immediately.

“I’ll be in the living room.”

He left and Peter caught his breath before starting to rinse dishes for the dishwasher. He hadn’t missed Tony’s reaction to their kiss – and if not for the incredible blowjob he’d had before dinner, his would have been just as noticeable – and it sent an involuntary shiver through Peter. Not surprising, really, since the boy’s body knew exactly what Tony was capable of doing to his own, but Peter was only going to go so far to preserve their temporary truce that evening, and he had a feeling that Tony wasn't going to be happy about it.

Between breakfast and dinner, they had enough dishes for Peter to make a full load in the dishwasher, so he started it washing and finished wiping down all the counters before going out into the living room to join Tony. Stark was on the sofa, just finishing up a phone call, when Peter arrived, and the boy saw that he was idly stroking himself through his pants. The swelling was impressive and Tony gestured silently for him to sit down, even as he said goodbye and ended the call.

“Where were we?” Tony asked, pulling Peter onto his lap and swinging a leg over so the boy was straddling his thighs.

“We’re not arguing,” Peter reminded him, sighing when Tony’s hand once more went under his pants and palmed him.

“No.” Stark kissed him; soft kisses that left Peter wanting more, but holding back, despite that growing desire. “No arguing tonight.”

Peter reached down between them and his hand found Tony’s throbbing cock. The man groaned with pleasure when Peter stroked him, and closed his eyes, enjoying the touch.

“Do you have any condoms?”

Tony stilled, opening his eyes.

“What?”

 


	32. 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of the one day truce...

Peter didn’t notice Stark’s expression. He was looking down between them, watching his hand play along Tony’s shaft.

“Condoms,” he repeated, looking up, now.

Tony frowned.

“You don’t need a condom.”

“I don’t,” Peter agreed. He knew this wasn't going to go well, somehow, but he wasn't going to budge on it. “ _You_ do, though.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know anything about the woman that you’re sleeping with and-“

“Jesus _Christ_ , Peter,” Tony said, clearly annoyed. “I use condoms with _her_ , okay? I’m not going to risk having her give me something that I might pass on to you.”

The boy shrugged.

“I’ve seen the pictures Mr. Bodeen has of male genitals with sexually transmitted diseases, Tony. I’m not willing to expose myself to any of that.”

“ _Who_?”

“Mr. Bodeen. My _health_ teacher,” he added, before Tony could ask.

He was still holding Tony’s cock, but the member was deflating in his hand.

“It’s safe,” Stark told him. “We used protection.”

“For _everything_?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Including _oral_?”

Tony’s hesitation was answer enough for Peter, and Stark saw the change in the boy’s expression. From uncertain, to definite.

“I’m _not_ using a condom with you.”

“I’m not having sex with you, unless you do.”

“What?”

“Could you imagine how I’m supposed to go to May? ‘Hey, Aunt May… I was wondering… Where should I go to get this syphilis taken care of? Oh, I don’t know, Peter, let’s ask Tony where he had _his_ treated…’ That would be a great conversation to have, don't you think?”

Stark scowled.

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“I _know_.”

Now Tony was mad, and Peter knew it. He gave a purely mental sigh and waited for the explosion. Which came, immediately.

“So you’re freezing me out of your bed because of this whole sex with Jessica thing? Is that it?”

“I’m not freezing you out of _anything_ ,” Peter pointed out, his voice far more calm than Stark’s. “I _want_ to have sex with you, in case you didn’t notice. But with a condom.”

“You planned this, didn’t you?” Tony ignored the logic of Peter’s statement – and the fact that the boy actually still had hold of him. Tony had let go of Peter almost immediately. “To force me to stop seeing her…”

“Yeah, Tony,” Peter snapped, his brown eyes furious, his head starting to pound from a headache that was forming somewhere between his ear and his left eye. “It’s all part of my secret plan. Want to hear it? It starts with me tricking you into having sex with someone I don’t know – for however long _that’s_ been going on. And then I tricked you into not telling me about her, so I’d get to hear about her from the gossipmongers at Stark Industries, instead. After that, presuming everything went right, the idea was to trick you into practically kidnapping me from my school and bringing me out here, where you could tell me you love me and then refuse to prove it by doing something as ridiculous as wearing a condom. All so I can freeze you out of my bed.”

“Peter…”

“No.” He climbed off the couch, the anger still boiling over, but now mingled with enough hurt that he was surprised he was still articulate. “If you cared about me, at all, you’d take care of me.”

He turned and left, going into the guest room and slamming the door behind him, leaving Tony staring at the door in astonishment.

Peter flung himself onto the bed with an annoyed curse that would have made May turn scarlet. He ignored the sound of the rain lashing at the bedroom window and the wind howling outside. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart. He closed his eyes, trying to get his anger under control, hoping if his heartbeat slowed down it would make his head hurt less. It didn’t work. His heart stopped pounding, yes, but his head hurt worse than ever.

He stayed still, resting quietly, for a very long time, counting to a thousand repeatedly, hoping to put himself to sleep. Nothing worked.

He sat up and looked out the window. It was getting dark, but that didn’t matter. Peter had excellent night vision, now. Suddenly incredibly restless, he decided to go take a walk, despite the rain and the wind. He listened for any noise in the house, and when he didn’t hear any, he silently moved through the now dark house. Tony must have gone to bed, since his bedroom door was closed and Peter didn’t hear any sound coming from the other side of it. He hesitated, but even the idea of walking in a little rain was more appealing than having it out with Stark again.

He retrieved his shoes at the back door and quietly let himself out.

>>><<<>><><<<> 

“That little… ungrateful _whelp_ …”

Stark had half a mind to storm into the bedroom and put him in the car and take him home right then and there. Who the hell did he think he _was_ , telling _him_ to wear a condom? He’d _worn_ one. _Every_ time. He’d been looking out for Peter by doing it.

He’d taken _care_ of Peter, too, he thought, scowling. He’d brought him into the tech of Stark Industries, was showing all kinds of things no fifteen-year-old would ever have a chance to see. Making gadgets for his Spiderman suit and thinking of ways to keep him safer while doing it. Had even kept his _secret_. Had made him a watch to keep track of him. Had done all kinds of things for him that he’d never have dome for anyone else.

What was some bareback when compared to all of that?

Still fuming, he tucked himself back into his pants and went around the house, locking doors and turning off lights. It was still fairly early, but he was certain he wasn't going to see Peter again that evening – not that he really _wanted_ to. The boy was so... _annoying_! And demanding. It drove Tony crazy, sometimes. He _needed_ someone like Jessica, he thought, restlessly. Someone who wasn't so complicated. Someone who would do what Tony wanted. Who wouldn’t question everything he did, or said. Someone who didn’t make him want to cuddle him one minute and wring his neck the next from frustration.

When the house was closed for the night, he went into his room and sat down on his bed, still steaming.

The anger lasted about another hour before it started burning off and common sense finally reared its ugly head.

Stark sighed, well aware that he’d made a lousy showing of himself and that he was getting pretty good at it. At least with _Peter_ , he was. He replayed the conversation – the _argument_ – that they’d had, and had to admit that Peter was well within his rights asking to have them use condoms. _He_ didn’t know Stark had used them with her – and had no reason to trust his word. Especially since Peter had been absolutely correct when asking about oral.

Not that that really _counted_. But still. It _did_. Tony was many years removed from his own high school health classes, but he supposed it was possible.

And he _knew_ Peter wasn't duplicitous enough to ask for the condom to have a reason not to sleep with him. Peter was anything but sneaky, Stark knew. It was one of the things that he loved most about the boy – _and_ one of the things that drove him craziest. The boy hadn’t been shy about touching him, Tony knew, and he’d certainly looked interested.

Tony had been.

He should go apologize. Not that it would do anything to change things that night, but they could start again fresh the next morning. He’d sit Peter down on the couch and would tell him that he was sorry, and he’d get himself tested – just so things were officially in the clear as far as his health – and that until he did, he’d wear condoms with the boy. It was better than not being with him.

Anything was worth being with Peter. Even constantly being frustrated by him.

He looked over at the clock, surprised by how late it was.

Peter would be asleep, certainly. But maybe that was the best time to talk to him. To apologize. The boy was always a little loopy when he was just woken up, maybe it would make him less defensive, as well? It was worth a shot, Stark decided, getting out of his bed. He wasn't going to be able to sleep, anyway.

He left his bedroom and crossed the living room to the guest room. Assuming Peter was asleep, he didn’t both to knock. He just opened the door, silently and peeked in. And then turned on the light when he realized that the bedroom was empty.

“Peter?”


	33. 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The danger is in the darkness

It was a lot colder out, now, than it had been that afternoon. Peter was actually shivering as he walked along one of the walking paths that led toward the trees, where he thought he might find a little shelter from the rain and the wind. The rain was cold and soaking him, but the wind was biting and almost painful when it hit his bare face and anywhere else the lounge pants and sweatshirt didn’t cover.

He _had_ intended to go back to the house. He’d been chilled almost immediately and had stayed close to the pool house walls for protection from the wind, if not the rain. Something odd had happened though, when he’d been standing there. The restlessness that had driven him outside in the first place was now mingling with the same tingling inside him that he felt when he was standing on the high roofs, looking out over traffic and waiting to see if he was needed. It was the urge that told him something was off. Maybe some one needed him.

The boy turned back to the house, thinking that if something was going to happen, _Tony_ would probably be the better choice to handle it. He probably wouldn’t even be all that mad at Peter for waking him. Not if it was an _emergency_. When he had turned, though, it had felt so wrong that Peter had turned once more and followed those senses and headed for the walking path – and the protection of the trees.

>><<<>><><<<<<>>> 

_“Peter!”_

It was a big house, and it took a while to check all the rooms. When he didn’t find the boy, Tony did the same thing that he’d done before; he’d pulled up video footage. The security system that he set at night was designed to keep people out, not to force anyone to stay inside, and sure enough, he watched on the monitor as the boy went to the sliding door, stopped long enough to put shoes on and had left. Without a jacket, this time, Tony noticed.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he debated what he wanted to do. It was a bit of an overkill to use the Ironman suit to go find one upset (probably) teenager, after all, but he really didn’t want to wander around the property looking for him in the dark if he had a better way to do it. He finally decided to use the suit, and immediately activated it, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he was clear of the house, he launched into the air. Peter wasn't wearing the tracker, now, he knew, so he was going to have to look for heat sources, instead. On the plus side, as dark and cold as it was, there should only be one.

He hovered above the trees and told his AI to start looking.

>><<>><<<<<>>> 

The weather was blinding, but Peter was only vaguely aware of it. He wasn't following the path, now; he’d been urged a different direction and was now stumbling his way down the side of the high hill that Tony’s house sat on, tripping over the occasional tree root or brush and sliding a little, but always getting back up, always going toward whatever it was that was summoning him.

He stopped short, suddenly, finding himself at the top of an odd piece of sheer rock. Off to one side, on a gentler slope near it, he saw a dark, open building. He thought he saw movement in it, and turned that direction, feeling those urges now singing at him. Peter moved close enough to see that there were several big, square bales of straw and some more littering the ground and that the movement he'd seen had been goats.

Peter had found their little shelter, apparently. Freezing, he started toward it, thinking to warm up a little before going back to the house, even though he didn’t understand why the goats would have set off that Spider sense of his. Suddenly, though, even through the wind in the tree branches all around him, he heard a faint cry coming from the bottom of the cliff he’d been so close to.

Curious, he walked back over, and looked down through the darkness and could sort of make out a movement below him. He heard another cry, and Peter scrambled down the cliff, easily seeing handholds and places to put his feet in the jagged rockface, but not absolutely _needing_ them, after all. He’d never actually tried it, but the same ability that allowed him to stick to walls and buildings actually made him good at rock climbing, too, it seemed.

Another cry and he dropped the last 15 feet, to land in a small area that was heavily wooded and thick with mud. He turned toward the noise and saw a small creature, stuck in mud up to its belly and bleating for help.

Peter grinned, surprised. It was a _goat_. And it was well and truly stuck.

He slogged through the deep mud and reached the terrified creature. It was white with black patches, and was struggling to free itself.

“You’re a mess,” he told it, amused, reaching his arms around it and hoping it wouldn’t bite him.

He pulled it free, easily, and carried it over to solid ground before setting it down, looking to see if it was able to stand or if it had hurt itself. It seemed to be alright. Peter looked back up the way he’d come down, but there was no way he was going to be able to carry the goat up that way. Not easily, anyway. Instead, he decided to take it the other way around. He certainly wasn't going to leave it where it was. It’d probably run right back into the mud. Or hurt itself.

He picked it up, with its warm body tucked over his shoulders and its feet held together in front of him, and then he headed up the gentler slope, toward the shed.

>><><<<<>>>> 

Stark found the heat signature quickly. Even through the heavy trees and the rough terrain. The AI in his suit was feeding him data as fast as he could read it. There were a lot of little heat signatures; immediately identified as goats. They were gathered in a grouping – probably in the shed, although the trees blocked the sensors enough that he was only guessing. He saw another heat signature – much larger – huddled behind some bales of hay in the shed with the goats.

Tony fired his thrusters, annoyed at having to rescue Peter from the storm, but determined that he wasn't going to get into another argument with the boy. He was going to take him to the house, put him in a warm bath and make sure he didn’t catch a chill. Then, when he had him back to room temperature – and he was sure that he hadn’t taken any harm – they’d sit down and have a talk.

He was distracted by this idea, already running through possible ways that he could start the conversation, when the AI picked up another heat signature. This one had been hidden by a cliff, apparently, and was somewhat smaller than the first he’d seen in the shed with the goats. He was still too far away to make out details, even with the advanced sensors in his suit. You could only do so much with a thousand trees in the way, after all. This person was out in the weather, though, apparently carrying a goat over its shoulders, and was heading toward the shed.

>>><<<<<>>><>< 

Peter was relieved when he finally made it to the top of the slope. It had been a rough climb and it was punctuated with cries from the goat – right in his _ear_ – every time he slipped, and curses from the _boy_ , every time he slipped. Panting, he leaned over to let the goat loose, close enough, now, to the shed that he could see the others. If he could see them, he had to assume that his rescued goat could see them, too.

He walked as quickly to the shelter of the shed, looking up at the sudden flash of lights in the sky right above him.

The same time he realized that it was Tony’s Ironman suit, he saw a motion in his peripheral vision and turned toward the goat shed. Incredulously, he saw a man stand up from behind a bale of straw and saw a flash of light, immediately. He heard the shot, but felt a searing pain slicing through him before he could register what it was.

Even as he fell, suddenly numb, to the ground, Peter saw Ironman landing in the small area between him and the shed. The metal suit protectively standing between him and the stranger. He saw another flash of light, but then everything went dark.

And quiet.

  


	34. 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where did that come from?

Tony Stark looked over when May Parker entered the small waiting room. Not surprisingly, she looked frantic, and he excused himself from the conversation that he was having with the Federal Marshal and went to intercept her.

“May.”

“What happened, Tony?” the woman asked. “The officers that came to get me would only say that Peter’s hurt and that-“

“Yeah.” He put a hand on the small of her back, smoothly guiding her over to a small sofa. “Sit down. _Please_.”

She didn’t, suddenly fearing the worst. Bad news always came _after_ you were seated.

“Is he alright?”

He nodded.

“He will be.” Tony sat, knowing that if _he_ did, she would. He was right. The marshal left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving the two alone. “You know about the goats at my place, right?”

“Yes. What about them?”

“There’s a shelter – a shed – in the woods there, for them to use when it rains.”

“So?”

“So apparently someone else was hiding out there, waiting for it to stop raining. A drug runner. Peter was rescuing a goat and had brought it to the shed, and before we knew what was happening, he came out of nowhere and shot him.”

“Oh, my God.”

“He’s going to be _fine_ ,” Tony said, quickly. “They just told me that he’s out of surgery. He’s in a recovery room and as soon as he comes out of the anesthesia, they’ll put him in a regular room and then take you to see him.”

“And this other man?” she asked, curiously. “What about him?”

“You don’t need to worry about _him_ ,” Stark assured her.

He hadn’t made it in time.

Even as he’d plummeted from the sky toward the situation unfolding on his sensors, the man had emerged from his hiding spot behind the straw and Tony had watched in stunned disbelief and horror as the gun had gone off and Peter had fallen. The Ironman suit had landed, hand up and already firing. It had been a bit of overkill – _literally_ – when the repulser and hit the gunman, sending him backward into the shed with a sizable hole in his chest, but Tony hadn’t even waited for him to fall. He’d had his AI order up first responders to the location and had discharged from the suit as quickly as he could, scrambling through the rain and the mud to Peter’s side.

The boy had been silent, and still, but he’d moaned, softly, when Tony rolled him over.

“Peter?”

“Tony?” his breath was coming in frightened gasps, and Stark started looking for the source of the blood that was soaking through the muddy and wet sweatshirt. “Where’s the goat?”

“In the shed,” Stark said, gently, using the extra large size of the sweatshirt to his advantage; balling the extra fabric and pressing it hard against the wound in the boy’s side. A quick check for an exit wound made Peter gasp, but then Tony had simply pulled him into his arms, sheltering him from the driving rain. “Hang on, okay? We’ve got people coming.”

“Yeah.”

May understood what he meant, and didn’t ask any further questions about the shooter.

“It’ll be a little while,” Tony told her. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

She nodded.

“Please.”

The room was private, and well appointed. There were two sofas, a table with scattered magazines, a large TV on the wall and a courtesy table that had a coffee pot as well as a tray of various snack items. Clearly, it was intended for people being forced to wait for word on their loved ones. Stark left May’s side long enough to bring her coffee and a muffin, which she took with a nod of thanks.

“They found a briefcase of heroin in the shed,” he told her. “And a wrecked car just up the road. According to the marshals, he was coming from Canada with a million dollars worth of drugs. Probably got lost in all the rain and darkness and lost control of the car. Couldn’t risk staying with it – in case a state patrol trooper came by and must have happened to find the shed.”

He was babbling, and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. He was thoroughly shaken by the sudden turn of events and the twenty minutes of helplessness that he’d felt waiting for the paramedics to find their way through the woods to get Peter stabilized. The boy hadn’t said another word to him, he’d passed out, from pain, or blood loss, Tony didn’t know. But he had been tempted to go Ironman and fly him in to a hospital himself, and didn’t, only because he’d decided it would have hurt Peter more than keeping him still. He’d kept careful track of his breathing and heartbeat, and the bleeding had slowed, considerably by the time the large wave of paramedics and law enforcement had arrived.

May put a hand on his knee, far steadier than he was, just then, and Stark trailed off, resting his hand on hers.

“Did you get him to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him?” she asked, trying to distract him.

“Not as much as I’d have liked,” he told her, truthfully. “He did a lot of _sleeping_ , really. We’ll work on it, later.”

>><<>>>>><< 

Someone brushed their fingers against his cheek. _Soft_ fingers, which told him immediately who it was, even without opening his eyes. He _did_ , though, and reached up, wincing when the action hurt him, and caught her hand, holding it still against his cheek.

“May…”

“Hi, honey.”

“Hey.” He could feel that his head was on a pillow or two, and looking around he saw that he was in a hospital bed, in a hospital room, somewhere. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?” she asked, keeping his hand in hers, but sitting on the edge of his bed.

He paused, trying to remember.

“I rescued a goat… and someone was there… and… did he shoot me? Ironman came between us. Too late, though?”

She nodded, her eyes tearing up, and she wiped them, impatiently.

“Yes. A little too late.”

“Is he okay?”

“Tony?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s fine, Peter. Don’t worry. He’s around, hoping to get a chance to check on you., if you’re up for it?”

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, leaning over and kissing his forehead, and holding it for a very long time. Peter knew she was trying to rein in her emotions so he wouldn’t worry about her, and he squeezed her hand, apologizing silently for scaring her.

“I’m _fine_ ,” she told him, finally, sniffing as she straightened up. “Just a little freaked out about having someone knocking on the door in the middle of the night.”

“I didn’t know he was there,” Peter said. “I’m not even sure who he is, or why he-“

“Tony said he had a lot of drugs on him,” May interrupted. “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Oh.”

She touched his cheek, again.

“I’m supposed to let you rest. Should I send Tony in? Or would you rather sleep?”

“No. I’d like to see him – to make sure he’s alright.”

“I’ll send him in. But then you get some rest, okay?”

“Yeah.”

She kissed him, again, and he watched her leave the room. Peter closed his eyes, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him, immediately followed by a stabbing pain that seemed to run the entire length of his body, from groin to neck, anyway. He tried to take a deep breath, but it hurt, and he put his hand against his side, feeling bandages.

“Don’t poke it, or you might start leaking, again.”

Peter opened his eyes and saw that Tony had entered the room. The older man looked worried, and tired, but there was also relief in his expression. Peter was looking for _anger_ – since he had no real reason to be out in the rain in the first place – but he didn’t see any sign of that when Tony looked down at him.

“You saved me?”

“No. I didn’t get there in time for that,” Stark told him, cupping the boy’s cheek with his palm, and brushing his thumb across his temple. “But I was able to keep you with us until help came.”

“May said it was a drug thing?”

 _Now_ he saw anger, but he knew it wasn't directed at him.

“Yeah. It was. Don’t worry about it, okay? He’s not going to bother you, again. And the goat is _fine_ ,” he added before Peter could ask. “It said to tell you hi.”

“I’m going to be okay?”

Stark nodded, leaning over and pressing his cheek against Peter’s for just a moment.

“You’ll be fine, too. I’m going to let you sleep, okay?”

“Okay. You’ll take care of May, though? In case I’m not?”

“You will be.”

Peter closed his eyes. He wasn't so sure.

 


	35. 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Release day

“Tony?”

Startled, Stark turned to look at Pepper – and the fourteen other people sitting around the massive table in the conference room.

“What? Oh, _sorry_.” They were in the middle of a meeting, but he honestly couldn’t have said what it was about if someone had asked him. Instead, his thoughts were a few miles away, resting comfortably in a hospital room with bandages wrapped around his belly. “Whatever Miss Potts said, I agree and want to do it.”

“You want _chicken_ for lunch?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure.”

She gave him a look that was a cross between annoyed – which he knew _very well_ – and compassionate – which he did not – and sighed.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?  _Alone_?”

“Yes.” Stark looked at the others and waved them all out of the room. “You heard her. We need the room for a few minutes.”

They didn’t even hesitate, and the room cleared, although Pepper crossed her arms over her breasts, and _now_ her look was almost all annoyed.

“Are you _alright_?” she asked when the door closed behind the last VPO.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You’ve been preoccupied all week.”

“Well, I’m a busy guy. Being _Ironman_ , and all.”

“And you’re worried about _Peter_.”

He gave her a look – one that _she_ knew well.

“What? No. Of course not. He’s _fine_. May keeps me updated on his progress – not that she needs to, or anything.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being worried about him. He was _shot_. It’s normal to want to go check on him.”

“I’m not worried,” Tony repeated, stubbornly.

“May tells me that they’re going to release him from the hospital tomorrow.”

“Already?”

“Well, he’s not cleared for anything, but the risk of infection is gone, so the doctors say he can get out of the hospital.”

“When did you hear that?”

“This morning, while you were late coming in.”

“So, he’s going home? That’s good.”

“He’s going to a _rehab care facility_. He’s not allowed to move around, much, and they don’t want him home, just yet. He’ll have someone available 24/7 if he needs anything, that way.”

“What? That’s not acceptable. They’re not going to put him in an institution.”

“It’s not an _institution_. It’s highly recommended and they have –“

“I need to go,” Stark interrupted, standing up, suddenly. “Can you finish the meeting without me?”

“I _started_ it without you,” she pointed out, sarcastically. “I think I can handle things, here. Where are you going?”

As if she didn’t know.

“To talk to May.”

“Tell Peter I said hello.”

He walked out the door, past the milling group of high paid executives.

“Whatever Miss Potts says, I agree with,” he told them all. “My vote goes with hers.”

They all turned to Pepper, who invited them back into the room with a _what can you do_ shrug.

>>><<<<><<><><><>> 

Peter was sitting upright in his bed, propped up with the back of the bed and several pillows that were strategically located to avoid him putting any strain on his stomach muscles. He ached, a bit, but he was used to it hurting. It wasn't as bad as it had been, at least.

He turned at the light tap on his door, expecting May or a nurse – or maybe a doctor, although they were more rare, really. Instead, it was Tony who walked in. Stark looked around the room as he did, noticing the small stack of books, homework, and a hand-held video game system on the rolling table that also held the remains of Peter’s lunch.

“Hey,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, looking at the boy, intently, for any sign that he was hurting more than May had said.

“Hi.”

“How do you feel?”

“Okay.”

“Sore?”

“A _little_. They’re letting me out, tomorrow.”

“I know.” He reached out and touched Peter’s cheek, his expression tender and his touch gentle. “I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.”

“Oh.”

Stark dropped his hand.

“I was talking to May about your next step.”

“It’s a rehab place,” Peter told him. “Not that I need the same kind of care someone who broke their leg needs, but they don’t want me sitting home alone, and May can’t take more time off to hang out and watch me.”

“I know. We were talking about _that_ , too. I was thinking that I could take you home with _me_ , instead of you going to a facility.”

“Your house is all the way out in-“

“My _apartment_ ,” Tony interrupted, smoothly. “It has a spare room – and a comfortable couch – all the amenities you’d need, and there is a 24-hour concierge in case I’m not there and you need something. Besides, it’s much closer than the institution they’re talking about putting you in. May could see a lot more of you if you were there. What do you think?”

He frowned.

“What did _May_ say?”

“She said it was up to you.”

“It’s probably not a good idea, Tony. We’d just argue.”

“No. We won’t argue. I promise.”

“Why haven’t you been by to see me?”

“May needed to be here for you. I didn’t want to be underfoot. _Now_ , though, _I_ could be there for you, since she’d be working during the day.”

“You have to work.”

“I’m the owner of the company,” Stark reminded him. “I’ll work from home if it’s something important. You said if I cared about you, then I’d take care of you. Remember? Let me prove that I care about you.”

He hesitated.

“You know May is going to come by – a _lot_.”

“I’ve already reminded her that she’s welcome to. She _should_ , of course. For one thing, it’s pretty much on the way home for her, so she could have dinner with you every night. And I’m a much better cook than any of the lunch ladies at this rehab place. You _know_ that.”

“True.”

"This isn't a _trick_ , Peter. I'm not trying to talk you into doing something. I just want to be with you. To take care of you and make sure you're alright."

"I am."

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Stark looked away, first, fiddling with the tubes and wires that were monitoring the boy's condition.

“Well? What do I tell her?”

Peter shrugged.

“Okay.”

“Good.” He stood up. “I’ll talk to the doctors and get things set up for you. You tell May so she doesn’t think we’re twisting your arm.”

“Alright.”

“And try to sound more enthusiastic, Peter,” he said. “You’ll be in good hands.”

“The _concierge’s_?”

Tony smiled, and Peter echoed it, feeling a little cheerful at the thought of not being sent to another strange place filled with strangers.

“Smart ass. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

“You’re welcome.”

>><><><<<<<<>>> 

They took him out of the hospital room in a wheelchair. May pushed him down to the main entrance, where Happy was waiting with Tony at the limousine.

“You have everything?” she double checked with the boy.

“Yeah.”

“Excited?”

“Glad to be out of here,” Peter said. “And Mr. Stark’s a good cook. You’ll see.”

“I went by this morning to check his apartment out. He wanted me to see if there was anything I thought you needed that he didn’t have. It’s quite the set up.”

“Yeah? Video games?”

She smiled.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Although he admitted that you’d probably end up playing them by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t, if they came out with an Ironman video game, I bet.”

May laughed at that and smiled to the two men waiting for them.

Happy went and opened the closest door for them, while Tony stepped forward to offer Peter a supporting arm to get himself out of the wheelchair with as little strain as possible.

“You got him?” he asked May, who had taken the other side of the boy.

“Yes.”

“I’ll give them back their chair, while you get him settled."

May and Peter got into the back with little fuss, and a moment later Stark returned and joined them, sitting across from the two. Happy closed the door behind him, and a minute later the car pulled out onto the street. They talked about May’s schedule at work and how she’d fit it into having him at Stark’s. She wasn't concerned about him not being home – not yet. She was just glad he was going to be more accessible than they’d thought he was going to be at the rehab facility.

“You want to come up?” Tony invited, when they pulled to the curb in front of the apartment building and the doorman stepped forward, quickly, to open the back door.

She shook her head.

“I’m going to work a half day. I’d better get there.” She looked at Peter. “I’ll be by around six, all right? Don’t be annoying.”

“I’ll try.”

“Happy will take you to work,” Tony told her, getting out and offering Peter a hand to assist him. “If you need a ride here, call. Okay?”

“Thanks, Tony.”

They watched the limo drive away, and Tony put a hand on the small of Peter’s back, just in case, and turned him toward the door.

“Come on. Let’s get you settled in.”


	36. 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the convalescing begin

The apartment wasn't quite the same as Peter remembered it. When Tony walked him in, slowly, because it _did_ hurt a little to walk too much, he saw that the furniture had been arranged differently. There was a lot more open space in between items, now.

“They said you don’t really need a wheelchair,” Stark explained. “But if you hurt too much to walk and you want to use one, we picked one up – and now you’ll be able to maneuver around a little better.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t care for wheelchair, so he really didn’t have any intention of trying that.

Tony walked him to the guest room, where the bed was neatly made and waiting for him. There was a table on wheels – similar to the one in his hospital room – and the remote for the TV was on the nightstand. Stark showed him the safety rails that had been installed in the bathroom and the shower – although Peter wasn't allowed to shower, just yet, because of the stitches and bandages.

“Do you want to be in here?” Tony asked him. “Or on the couch?”

“Are you sticking around?”

“Yes.”

“The couch.”

He was eased down onto the end of the sofa and Tony brought out a blanket to cover him with, then settled in beside him. Peter automatically leaned into him, and was gratified when Tony put an arm around him.

"The door has an automatic lock,” Tony murmured, kissing his temple. “So no one will be able to walk in on us – which means I can hold you as much as you want. It’s voice activated, though, so you don’t need to get up to let someone in if you’re alone.”

“Set to my voice?” Peter asked surprised.

“Yes. _And_ mine.”

“Cool.”

“I thought you’d like that.” He brought the boy’s head to his shoulder, and reached for the remote with the hand that wasn't holding him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Peter told him, sincerely. “I was hoping you’d come visit me.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to keep from wanting to hold you.”

“Oh.”

That made sense, he decided.

Stark was silent for a minute, simply caressing the boy’s shoulder, idly.

“What’s your safe word, Peter?”

“Tony…”

“Answer the question.”

“Bugle.”

“And _mine_?”

“Cranberry sauce.”

“Good. We’re going to add to the dynamics of the whole safe word thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I say something that makes you upset – or annoyed enough that you think it will lead to an argument, then I want you to use your safe word. Same goes with me, if you say something I don’t like. If we hear the word, we stop, and back off. That way we stop the argument before it begins, and I get to keep my promise to you.”

Peter frowned.

“That’s a good idea.”

He smiled.

“I come up with them, occasionally.”

Tony’s hand moved, pressing Peter’s head and turning him toward him, which enabled Stark to kiss him. It wasn't demanding; it was soft, tender and the gentlest of touches. Peter sighed into it and deepened it on his own, his tongue being the one seeking entrance into Tony’s mouth, which was granted immediately.

When they broke of to come up for air, Stark smiled, again.

“I needed that.”

“Me, too,” Peter admitted.

He settled his head back against Tony once more, resting his hand on the man’s thigh and Stark turned on the TV.

“Movie?”

“Yeah.”

They were quiet as the show started playing, but Peter ran his hand along Tony’s leg, his hand ending up in his lap, almost automatically. Not surprising, he was greeted with a swollen handful of throbbing flesh, and Stark chuckled, well aware Peter wasn't up to dealing with anything physical and wasn't trying seduce him.

“Ignore that,” he said. “I’ll take care of it later.”

“With _Jessica_?”

He knew the minute that he said it, he was the one starting things. And was sorry. Luckily, Tony recognized it, too.

“Cranberry sauce.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tony’s hand moved Peter’s back to his thigh. He couldn’t have him driving him crazy like that all day, or his head would pop off. One of them, anyway.

“Accepted. And no. I’ll use my hand, like anyone else. I’ve been using it a fair amount, lately.”

“Oh.”

“I broke things off with her.”

Peter couldn’t hide his surprise.

“Why?”

“Because I want the 5,000 piece puzzle. And she isn’t it.”

“Oh.”

“Besides, it was upsetting you, and I decided that what I was getting from her wasn't worth the injury I was doing to you.”

He turned his head, looking at Stark, who refused to look at him.

“Really?”

“Yes. Now be quiet, okay? I want to see this part.”

Peter smiled, touched – despite the fact that Tony wouldn’t go into further detail about his reasons for not seeing the woman. He didn’t _need_ him to, really. Not just then, anyway. He did what he was told and relaxed once more, watching the movie, but he closed his eyes, comfortable and warm, and ended up dozing off.

Stark noticed almost immediately, but he didn’t mind. And he wasn't worried. He’d been told that the boy would spend a lot of time sleeping, and that was fine. He liked watching Peter sleep. It was basically the best of both worlds. He was sleeping, which Tony loved, and he couldn't argue with him. Which Tony also wanted to avoid. The movie played on, but Stark was only partially aware of what was happening as he alternated his attention between the screen and Peter, and didn’t wake him until it was over and the credits were rolling.

“I’m going to make lunch,” he said to the boy, who – as usual – looked adorably out of it when he just woke up. “Sit up a little so I don’t hurt you when I get up.”

Peter did, wincing just a little.

“Okay.”

Stark kissed him, and then got up, piling the comforter over the boy and handing him the remote.

“It’s nothing fancy, soup and sandwiches.”

“Sounds good.”

He didn’t need fancy, but he was aware that he _was_ hungry.

He turned the TV off and listened to the noises that Tony made while in the kitchen, his hearing acute enough that he didn’t have any trouble following what was going on.  A can opener – telling him the soup wasn't homemade – and the banging of a pot going onto the stove, and then the opening of the fridge.

“Peter? Turkey and cheese? Or ham and cheese?”

“Both.”

A snort of amusement and the rustling of wrappers and packaging. He drifted off again, while waiting, lulled by the homey noises and the warmth of the blanket.

“Hey.”

He opened his eyes to find a tray on the coffee table in front of him, and Tony crouched down by the couch.

“Fell asleep?”

“Yeah.” Tony rose up and kissed him, and then sat beside him. “Eat. Then I think we’ll put you to bed so you can get some real sleep.”

“I could stay out here and keep you company,” Peter told him, reaching for the spoon.

“Or I’ll stay in there and keep you company,” the billionaire retorted. “Don’t argue with me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Tony didn’t have any soup, but he ate a couple of sandwiches and had some of Peter’s crackers, watching the boy eat with approval. There was nothing wrong with his appetite – which had been something that the doctors had told him to monitor. When Peter was done eating, Stark helped him to his feet, carefully, and they went to the guest room. While Peter went to the bathroom, Tony pulled a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt from the clothes that May had brought over for the boy, and turned the bedding down.

“I can’t sleep in that shirt,” Peter told him, walking slowly over to the bed and seeing the clothes Tony had picked.

“Why not?”

“It’s a _school_ shirt, not a sleeping shirt.”

Stark frowned.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Some shirts are too good to be wasted sleeping in – where no one would see them. This is one of them.”

“Does May know this?” Tony asked, amused. “Or am I going to have to worried that all she packed you were school shirts?”

“She _knows_ ,” Peter told him with a smile. “Find me a plain one, please?”

“You’re so weird, Peter Parker.”

He softened the criticism with a kiss and picked up the offending shirt and rifled through the clothing to find a plain white t-shirt, instead.

“That’ll work.”

Tony had to help him, but they got the shirts changed out and then Stark pulled his jeans and boxers off and helped the boy into the pajamas. If his hand brushed the boy’s groin once or twice – accidentally – during the process, well that was coincidence, that was all. He smiled at the half-hearted attempt to rise to the occasion, though, and Peter’s chuckle.

“We’re not ready for anything like that, I guess,” the boy said as they got him into the bed and Tony pulled the blankets up over him.

“No. Not, yet.”

They had time, though.

“You’re going to keep me company?” Peter asked, patting the spot beside him in invitation.

He had been planning on going and doing the dishes, first, but Tony nodded and stretched out on the bed with Peter – above his blankets, for the moment. He gathered the boy carefully against him.

“Go to sleep, okay?” he murmured, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “When you wake up, I have some apples that need peeled.”

Peter had closed his eyes, but he opened them, again.

“Why?”

“Apple pie, or apple crisp. Haven't decided, yet.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes. Maybe we’ll peel enough apples to make both, so you can see. Go to sleep, Peter.”

He didn’t have a lot of choice. Peter closed his eyes and did what he was told.


	37. 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's working

“This is delicious,” May said. “ _You_ made it?”

Stark smiled, always amused when someone reacted that way. Or annoyed. It depended on the person. He was amused when May said it.

“Yes.”

“From _scratch_? Not just from the box in the freezer section?”

“Peter peeled the apples. _He’ll_ tell you.”

The boy nodded, also smiling.

“We’re going to make a pie, tomorrow.”

“Make sure you take notes,” May told him. “I could get _used_ to this.”

Tony had already finished his dessert, and he stood up and started gathering dishes from the table, raising a hand when May offered to help.

“Spend time with Peter,” he told her. “I can handle a few dishes.”

He did just that, giving May a chance to reassure herself that Peter hadn’t taken any harm being let out of the hospital. The meal didn’t hurt; showing her that not only did the boy have an appetite, but that he was being well taken care of by Tony, who clearly knew what he was doing in the kitchen.

“You’re okay?”

Peter smiled.

“Yeah.”

Considering that he hadn’t been smiling a lot, lately – even before he’d been hurt – May smiled, too, feeling relieved.

“Good. Do you need anything?”

“A couple of pairs of sweats to sleep in? I don’t like the pajamas.”

“Not warm enough?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll bring some by tomorrow.” She kissed his cheek and went into the kitchen to talk to Tony. “I’m going to head home. Thanks for dinner.”

Stark smiled, wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

“You’re welcome. We’re going to have lasagna tomorrow. How are you with garlic?”

“The more the better.”

“Noted.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“Just you. His face lit up when he heard you at the door.”

She smiled at that, and impulsively gave him a hug.

“Thank you, Tony.”

“You are welcome.” He didn’t do hugs well, for the most part, but he didn’t pull away until she let him go. “Watch your phone tomorrow; I’ll send you pictures and updates to keep you from missing him.”

She nodded, went out and told Peter goodbye, and then left, closing the door behind her.

The boy carried a couple of saucers into the kitchen, moving painfully slow, but not hurting too much. He was just glad to be on his feet.

“She had a good time.”

“Yeah?” Tony took the dishes from him. “Good. One less thing to stress about, right?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I help?”

“No. Go find something for us to do when I’m done. Cards, or a board game. It won’t be long.”

><<<>>><>>< 

“I think you’re cheating…”

“Think what you want,” Stark said, smugly. “You owe me rent – a hotel on Park Place doesn’t come cheap, after all.”

“Are these dice loaded?” Peter asked, picking them up and examining them.

“Pay up, Peter. I know you’ve got it.”

“I need that to buy my own hotels, though,” the boy pointed out. “I was just waiting to pass GO and get the rest of what I needed.”

“Even better for me, then, isn’t it?”

The boy scowled.

“You’re not a very good winner, Tony.”

He nodded.

“I know. I’ll have to work on that. Now pay up.”

“How about a kiss, instead?”

“Instead of $2,000?” Tony asked, feigning uncertainty. “That would have to be one hell of a kiss.”

Peter smiled and leaned a little bit – not too much, because it hurt to put too much stress on his stomach muscles – but Stark leaned, too, and caught the boy’s lips with his own. It was a good, deep, kiss, which made Tony twitch in response, and slide his hand into Peter’s lap to see if he was responding as well. He was, and Tony slid his hand along the fabric of the pajamas, palming him. The boy moaned, softly, and then pulled away, smiling.

“Well?”

“Nope. Pay up.”

The boy laughed, and did as he was told, and the game went on for almost an hour in a similar vein; whenever one would land someplace that would cost a lot of money to abide for their turn. There was a lot of kissing and groping going on and by the time Tony’s business acumen beat out Peter’s good luck with the Community Chest and Chance cards, they were both aroused and enjoying the sensation.

“It’s late,” Tony said, looking at his watch. He kissed Peter, gently. “Go get ready for bed. I’ll clean this up.”

“Okay.”

Peter got up, a little stiff from sitting so long – and a _lot_ stiff from Tony’s skillful fingers – and went into the guest room. He was too sore to really be able to handle them doing more than just the fooling around, but it had been enjoyable – and even better, there hadn’t been any flare ups between them. Which was pleasant, to say the least.

He was much more under control by the time his teeth were brushed and he’d done his nightly bathroom ritual and Stark came into the guest room the same time he came out of the bathroom. Just in time to help him into bed.

“I had a good time, Tony,” Peter told him, sincerely, as Stark pulled the blankets up over him.

Tony nodded, his expression as tender as the kiss he planted on Peter’s forehead.

“Me, too. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“You're not going to sleep in here?”

He smiled.

“Can you handle sharing your bed? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Stark went to the other side of the bed and pulled the blankets back, sliding carefully in next to the boy. Peter rolled just a little, onto his side, to face him, and to press his face against Tony’s bare chest.

“You’re okay?”

“Yes.”

Tony slid his hand along Peter’s hip.

“Still?”

“Yeah.”

His hand went under the pajamas and Peter felt his breath catch in his chest.

“Now?”

“I’ll tell you when to _stop_.”

The older man chuckled, and began stroking Peter, carefully, feeling the boy swell at his touch until he was eventually throbbing and eager.

“That feels so good…”

“Hold still,” Tony told him, sitting up and pulling the blankets that were covering the boy aside.

He pulled down the front of Peter’s pajamas and freed his cock and then bent over and took him into his mouth. Peter did what he was told, and was as still as he could be considering what was being done to him. He winced a little when his hips started to rock, and Tony stopped, pulling his mouth off of him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Keep going.”

Stark chuckled and made quick work of the boy, rather than allowing it to last. His mouth was talented enough to do either, and it would be less painful – less movements – if Peter came quickly. The boy groaned with the sensation of his release, and Stark swallowed him, willingly, slurping his tongue along Peter’s shaft and head until he felt him relax a bit.

“Better?”

“Yes. Thanks.” Peter sighed and closed his eyes, his hand going to Tony’s lap, and stroking him, lightly. “There’s no way I could do that, right now.”

“Does it hurt to do what you’re doing right now?”

“No.”

“Then just keep doing that.”

He was kneeling beside Peter, and he simply closed his eyes and imagined all the things that he would be doing to the boy if there weren’t any bandages wrapped around him. All the ways that he would turn him, how hard and how fast he’d be fucking him. Tony had a very good imagination and his hips were jerking, now, and Peter’s strokes were coming faster, his grip teasing him one moment and holding fast the next. With a grunt, Tony came, making a bit of a mess of Peter’s hand and chest, and he opened his eyes and looked down at him, trying to catch his breath.

“Thank you.”

The boy smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

He leaned over and kissed him, gently, and then got up, found a wet towel and cleaned themselves off he before joined Peter in his bed, once more. This time, he simply allowed the boy to cuddle against him in whatever position was least painful. Once Peter was settled, Tony put an arm around him to hold him in position and then went still.

“You’re not hurt?”

“No.”

Peter sounded like he was almost asleep, in fact.

“Then we can do that as much as we want. That’s something, anyway. _Know your limitations_ , Peter. That’s what I always say.”

Peter smiled, kissing his chest.

“Do you _have_ any?”

“Very few,” he admitted. But a lot _more_ than he’d ever thought he’d have. The crazy thing was, the more Peter restricted him, the more willing Stark was to find a way to make things enjoyable. He was learning how to make the limits work. “We’ll work with what we can do, okay? Make it exciting.”

“I’d like that.”

Stark smiled.

“I would, too.”


	38. 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where we learn Tony needs to work on his mentoring a little more

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“I own the company.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow.

“I meant, what are you doing here, _now_? Why aren’t you watching Peter?”

“Because he kicked me out.”

“He kicked you out?”

Stark nodded, sifting through the papers on his desk and looking distracted.

“He did.”

“He kicked you out of your _apartment_?”

“Yes.”

“And you _let_ him?”

“Yes, Pepper.”

“Why?”

“Because he said he wants to try to make dinner for his aunt – by _himself_ – and called me a distraction and sent me on my way.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Stark sighed, and looked up from his desk, finally, taking off his glasses.

“Not _entirely_ , no. But he’s feeling better, and he’s cocky enough to think that watching me cook for him the past week has turned him into Gordon Ramsey. As his mentor, I decided that I should let him try.”

Pepper smiled.

“And if he burns down your kitchen?”

“Then he will have failed.”

Her smile faded.

“That’s _it_?”

“Pretty much. He thinks he can do it, though, so what the hell, right? The worst that can happen – aside from the aforementioned burning of my apartment – is food poisoning, and since he’s cooking for _May_ , I’m assuming that he’s going to be careful to make sure nothing is raw that should be cooked.”

“You’re enjoying his company, aren’t you?” she accused, smiling again.

Stark didn’t bother to deny it.

“Yes. He’s smart, likeable and hard working. Reminds me of myself.”

“ _Likeable_ …” she shook her head. “How is he doing, though? _Really_?”

“He’s still sore. Sleeps a lot and has had a few nightmares – probably about getting shot, although he tells me that he doesn’t remember what wakes him up. His appetite is good, though, and he seems to be doing well.”

“With Tony Stark watching over him, how could he be anything but…?” she asked, shaking her head. “I have to admit, I wasn't so sure about it, when you mentioned taking him in to convalesce at your place.”

“But now…?”

“I’m _still_ not sure. You _did_ just leave him unattended in your place to make dinner.”

“He’ll be fine. He has the concierge if he needs anything – including the fire department. In the meantime, any idea what I did with my green pen?”

Pepper shook her head, reached around him to the pen holder and pulled the pen that he was looking for and handed it to him.

“Are you going to be here long?”

“A couple of hours.”

“Then we can go over some numbers.”

“Sure.”

She was right, though – even though he’d never admit it. Not to anyone. Well, to _himself_ in those rare moments that he was being honest, but that was it. He _was_ having a good time with Peter. And it wasn't just the sex, because with Peter’s injury they were very much limited in what they were doing. Not to mention the other issue that loomed over them. It didn’t need to be addressed, just then, but it would definitely need to be discussed in the near future.

Tony would sleep in Peter’s bed with him at night. The boy slept soundly if he did, and that right there was reason enough for Tony to be there. Stark would wake him in the morning with a blowjob, careful not to jar him too much while he was doing it, but making sure the boy was taken care of before he even got out of bed. Why? Because that was one way to take care of him, and Tony had committed himself to caring for Peter, and he was going to do it. Peter never complained. Then it was breakfast – and sometimes May would join them on her way to work, but usually she would just call to check on him and see if he needed anything.

Peter was still too sore to do much more than lay in bed or on the couch all day – usually sleeping. Those were times when he would cuddle himself against Stark, making sure the older man knew in no uncertain terms that he wanted to be held. And Tony would do it. Not just for Peter and because Peter wanted him to, but because he _wanted_ to, he’d tell himself – and not because he found that _he_ was almost happy when Peter was happy.

Then they’d have lunch before Peter would nap or would work on the schoolwork that his teachers were sending over to keep him caught up on his classes. Which was no problem, of course, with Tony right there to help him through the trickiest of problems. Eventually Stark would start dinner; usually with Peter watching with interest while he did.

May would arrive after work and Tony would play gracious host long enough to feed them all, but would then back out so that she could have alone time with her nephew. She always checked how he was feeling, and made much of him – which Stark approved of – and then she’d come into the kitchen and ask Tony for his observation on how Peter was doing, as well. When she was gone for the night, Tony and Peter would play cards, or a board game and would then go to bed.

It had been a good week, really, and there had only been one instance of using the safe words to stop an argument, and that had been Peter, making a comment about Jessica that Tony hadn’t wanted to go into. The boy had backed off immediately, following their predefined rules, and the rest of the night had been without incident.

Tony’s intercom went off, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Yes?”

_“Mr. Stark, Peter Parker is on line 2 for you.”_

Pepper raised an eyebrow, her mouth quirked, as if waiting to be able to say I told you so.

Tony rolled his eyes and picked up the phone, punching the button.

“Peter?”

_“Hey.”_

“Is everything alright?”

_“Yeah. I was just looking for paprika and couldn’t find any. Do you have some?”_

“What are you making with paprika?”

_“Dinner.”_

Pepper smiled, amused, and Stark shook his head.

“Look in the spice shelf. Second row, back three. If you don’t see any, call the concierge.”

_“No, I found it. Thanks.”_

“Do you need anything?”

_“Not anymore.”_

“Tell him I said hello.”

“Miss Potts told me to tell you that she says hello.”

_“Tell her hi back. Invite her to dinner tonight.”_

He looked over, knowing that she could hear both sides of the conversation, but she made an amused face and shook her head. The message was clear; she wasn't going to try whatever it was Tony’s intern was going to force upon him and May.

“She says she would love to come, but she has prior commitments.”

_“Okay. See you later.”_

Stark ended the call.

“It’s probably fine,” he said. “There are plenty of perfectly good recipes that call for paprika.”

>>>><<<<<>>><<< 

Peter looked at the two adults sitting at the kitchen table, expectantly.

“Well…?”

May made a face that Peter didn’t really recognize.

“It’s, uh, interesting.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s one word for it,” Tony agreed, looking at the plate Peter had put in front of him. “You do understand that deviled eggs are _boiled_ , though, right? Not _scrambled_?”

“I didn’t think it would matter.”

His aunt choked, amused.

“It does, sweetheart. The paprika’s a nice touch, though.”

Peter nodded.

“It looks _fancier_ , that way.”

He’d had fun working on the meal, even though he’d been pretty sore and had had to move slowly during the process. The cooking app that he was using on his phone hadn’t been much help, really, so he’d just done things by ear. Baking a ham wasn't all that hard, after all, and it had come out okay, with just a few charred looking spots that could be cut off before he served it. There was cornbread, but when Peter cut _it_ , he had to admit that it looked a little doughy inside, so he probably could have baked it longer. The green beans were right out of a can, so they were fine, and of course, his deviled eggs were a little confusing, he supposed, since he hadn’t known the difference. He had wondered at the time why anyone would put mayo and mustard in their scrambled eggs and cover it with paprika - but what did he know?

“It looks like _something_ ,” Stark said, looking down at his plate. “That’s certain.”

Peter smiled.

Staying at Tony's hadn’t been the disaster that he’d thought it might be when his mentor had suggested it. They hadn’t argued once, really, and Tony had been attentive and solicitous. He’d spend hours sitting on the sofa with him, doing nothing more than holding him or playing pillow. It was nice. Even more, it was relaxing, and Peter needed that. Not just because of the gunshot – which did hurt, plenty – but because of the emotional turmoil he’d been through with Tony and the whole Jessica thing. It wasn't over, of course, just because he wasn't seeing her, anymore, but they weren’t arguing about it, right now, either.

“You don’t have to eat anything that isn’t good,” he told them both, giving them an out if they needed it. “It won’t hurt my feelings.”

“What did you make for dessert?” May asked, curiously.

“There was ice cream in the freezer,” he said. “I didn’t have time to try to bake a cake or something.”

From the expressions on their faces, he deduced that they were relieved to hear it.

 


	39. 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dessert

“So what did we learn from our experiment this evening?” Tony asked Peter, much later, after May had left and he and the boy were cleaning the kitchen.

Peter rolled his eyes, good-naturedly.

“Boil the deviled eggs, and cornbread doesn’t need sugar.”

The billionaire smiled.

“Very good.”

“It wasn't _all_ bad.”

“No.” He wiped his hands and pulled Peter carefully into his arms, hugging him. He was pleased that the boy had felt confident enough to try it and had sent him away to let him try it alone. “It was a good attempt. You’ll do better, next time.”

“Yeah.”

Peter kissed Tony’s neck, softly, running his tongue along his collarbone, which made Stark shiver.

“That’s nice…” he whispered.

He smiled and slid his hands along the older man’s side.

“Thanks for letting me make dinner.”

“You’re welcome. Next time, let me _help_ , okay? Even if it’s just an advisory role.”

“Okay.”

Stark pulled away enough that he could kiss him, his mouth against Peter’s, his tongue demanding access, which was granted immediately. Only when they were breathless did they pull apart, and Peter ran his hand down Tony’s stomach, and then _lower_ , smiling up at the man when he found the throbbing bulge that declared absolute interest in more than just a single hot kiss. He slipped his hand into the waist of Stark’s pants, exploring with a gentle touch that made them both excited.

Tony put his hand over Peter’s, but only for a moment. Then he pulled away, reluctantly.

“Let’s finish this, first,” he told the boy. “Then I have something to show you.”

They were cleaning the kitchen, together, even though it took longer than it would have if Tony had just done it alone. Peter didn’t move very quickly, yet, although he didn’t hurt like he had been, so Stark did most of the work, but that was fine. Time enough for Peter to wash the table or wipe counters when he was a little healthier.

“Go get comfortable,” Stark finally told him. “I’ll finish up here.”

Peter didn’t argue. He shuffled to the living room, and sat on the couch. Tony had been teaching him to play cards, but he was in the mood for something even easier that night, which usually meant a movie. It would also mean some cuddling and tender groping in the dark, and that was all to the good. He watched, then, as Tony came out of the kitchen, then leaned over the back of the couch and kissed him.

“I’ll be right back.”

Peter nodded, and Stark vanished into his bedroom for a few minutes. When he reappeared, he was wearing lounge pants and nothing else, and was holding a large yellow envelope. He went through the apartment, turning off all the lights and making sure the stove was turned off.

“What’s this?” Peter asked when Tony finally came over and sat down beside him, then set the envelope on the boy's lap.

“Open it.”

Peter did, pulling out a couple of pieces of important looking papers. He didn’t understand what he was looking at, though. Only that it seemed to be from some doctor’s office, and it had Tony’s name on it. He frowned, suddenly worried.

“Are you okay?”

Stark chuckled.

“It’s nothing bad, Peter,” he assured the boy. “When I broke up with Jessica, I went to get myself tested – just to be sure. Those are the results. I’m in the clear.”

“Oh.” Peter smiled, feeling dumb for not figuring it out, but also relieved – and a little excited at what it meant. “I’m glad.”

“So am I,” Stark assured him. “Now give me a kiss.”

He did what he was told, leaning into Tony and putting his hand on the older man’s bare chest as he caught Stark’s lips with his own, his tongue demanding access to his mouth. Tony chuckled and acquiesced giving himself over to the boy and letting him set the pace – for now – since he knew what would hurt him and what he was capable of handling. The hand on his chest went lower, until Peter reached into his pants and found Tony’s throbbing cock, stroking it gently without freeing it from the fabric.

“Peter…” Stark murmured into the kiss.

“Shhh…”

The older man didn’t argue, but he did wonder just what the boy thought they’d be able to do when it hurt him every time he moved, pretty much. Tony was all for an evening of hot sex, but he was well aware that it just wasn't going to happen. Not until Peter had healed up a bit more.

He broke the kiss off, leaning back a little and pushing the front of his pants down, freeing himself and watching as Peter stroked him.

“Stand up, Tony,” the boy ordered.

Excited and hoping that he knew what was coming, Stark got to his feet and presented the head of his cock to the boy, who was able to take it in his mouth without being forced to bend. He tried to deepthroat him, but gagged and had to back off a little. Stark’s excited grunt reminded him that that was just fine. Within only a few minutes, Tony’s hips were working his cock in and out of Peter’s mouth and the boy was stroking any part of the shaft that he couldn’t take.

Tony put his hand in the boy's hair to hold him still and came, explosively.

“God…”

He watched as Peter cleaned him, his tongue caressing the head and shaft, and his mouth taking him completely in with a hum of pleasure. Tony pulled out, finally, and sat back down beside the boy, and gathered him carefully into his arms.

“I missed that,” Peter said, breathlessly.

“Me, too,” Stark assured him, reaching his own hand down, now, to find the bulge in Peter’s sweats. “We should probably do something about _this_ , now…”

The boy chuckled and shook his head.

“Just pay attention to it,” he told Tony. “It feels good, right now, just the way it is.”

Like he’d told him before, Peter enjoyed the anticipation and being played with. Of course, it was easier for him, since Tony had been so attentive toward him all week. It wasn't hard to not be desperate with someone close at hand and willing to suck you every morning.

“I can do that.”

Stark covered them both with a blanket that they’d taken to keeping on the couch just for that reason, and reached for the remote. Without asking Peter what he wanted to watch, he turned on a movie and set the remote aside, one arm around Peter, holding him against him, and the other inside the boy’s sweats, teasing him, idly. Peter sighed, contentedly, and watched the movie, while occasionally turning his head to kiss Tony’s chest or shoulder.

By the time the movie was over, he was stiff and eager, but even then the boy wasn't in any hurry to have his needs taken care of, finding it delicious to wait. Tony wasn't so patient, though, and he slid to the floor between the boy’s knees still under the blanket and pulled the sweats down enough to free Peter’s cock, which bobbed eagerly in front of his face. He caught him, and devoured him, his mouth taking the throbbing flesh deep into his throat and holding him there for a long moment while Peter closed his eyes and whimpered, softly, at the sensation.

“Yes…”

Tony pulled back enough that he could use his tongue on the boy’s cock and spent a long time playing with him. First licking his shaft and then sucking the head a while, running the flat of his tongue expertly along Peter’s most sensitive spots. Then, when the boy would start to tense, he’d back off, completely, and simply wait a moment before starting again, teasing him, delightfully.

He did it several times before Peter finally moved his hands to Tony’s head and held him still while his hips jerked, fucking his cock into the older man’s mouth, anxiously, increasing his tempo as much as his injury would allow until her finally thrust himself deep and came with a grunt of pleasure that was echoed by Stark.

A few minutes later, Tony reappeared from under the blanket and settled himself once more next to Peter, leaning into him and kissing him, hotly, holding him as firmly as he dared.

“I _do_ love you, Peter,” he whispered against the boy’s lips. “Never doubt it.”

The boy opened his eyes, looking at Stark, who was watching him, intently.

“Tony…”

“Shh, I know. You’re still not _certain_.” He kissed him; gentle butterfly kisses, this time. “It’s okay. That’s on me to prove, and I’ll figure it out. Your job is to allow me the time I need to convince you – and whatever access I need to you. Fair?”

“Just _me_ …” Peter murmured, reminding Tony that like himself, he wasn't willing to share.

“Only you,” Stark agreed.

“Okay.”


	40. 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Field trip

Peter was still asleep when May called him in the morning to check in on him on her way to work.

Not surprising, considering that he and Tony had been up late the night before enjoying each other with more enthusiasm than what Peter was probably ready for, but had been willing to try. He wasn't ready for the jarring, excited motions of sex, just yet, but they weren’t in a hurry. A tongue and talented fingers were satisfying, too, and both had proven it to the other. Repeatedly.

Tony tapped him on the shoulder, waking him with a smile and handing him his cell.

“May’s on the phone.”

Stark, of course, was shaved, showered and dressed for his day, looking fresh despite the late evening. Peter took the phone and closed his eyes, again.

“Hey, May.”

_“Hi. Did he wake you?”_

“No, I was awake,” Peter told her, even though he knew she’d know he was lying. It made him smile, and she’d hear it in his voice. “You on your way to work?”

_“I am. I’m going to miss dinner tonight. Are you okay with that?”_

“I’m not making it, you _know_ that, right?”

She chuckled.

_“I have the overnight conference, smart ass. I’ll be back by dinner tomorrow.”_

“Oh. Right. Yeah. No. I’m fine. More for me, right?”

_“Right. I’ll have my phone on if you need me, though, okay?”_

“Tony knows?”

_“He does. You did, too, if you were awake enough to remember.”_

She was well aware how confusing he could be after waking up.

“Yeah, I remember you mentioning it,” he assured her. “I just forgot.”

_“Do you need anything?”_

“I’m set.”

_“Your science teacher wants you to call him. He sounded excited, so you might want to do that today.”_

“Okay.”

_“I love you.”_

He smiled.

“I love you, too.”

The phone call ended, and Peter set his cell on the stand beside the bed.

“Everything alright?” Tony asked, walking back into the room just as he closed his eyes, again, thinking that he might sleep a little longer.

Peter opened his eyes and nodded.

“She was just reminding me that she won’t be here, tonight.”

“I know. She reminded me, as well.” He leaned over and kissed the boy. “Which means I have you all to myself this evening. Whatever shall we do?”

Since his hand had ended up resting in the general vicinity of the boy’s lap, Peter smiled, feeling the first stirrings of arousal under Tony’s attentions.

“Can we go out, today?”

Tony frowned.

_“Outside?”_

“How many other outs are there?”

“Outfield, outline, outhouse, Outer Limits, out-“

“Out,” Peter interrupted, smiling. He loved it when Stark allowed his sense of humor to show. “Do you need to go to the tower for anything? I could come. Maybe say hello to Miss Potts, or something.”

“You’re getting cabin fever?”

“A little.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll call your doctor and see if she has any problem with it. If she’s onboard, then yes, we can go _out_ for a while.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Breakfast?”

“Not until you finish that,” Peter said, hopefully, gesturing toward the tent forming in the sweats he was wearing.

Stark smiled and pulled the front of his pants down, freeing the boy. He kissed him, though, his hand already stroking him, gently, seductively, and Peter sighed with pleasure into the kiss.

“Hedonist.”

“ _You_ started it.”

“Fair enough.”

He moved his head and bent over Peter’s lap and the boy closed his eyes, giving himself over to Tony’s attentions and running his fingers through the man’s perfect haircut while marveling at the fact that he was his.

>>><<<<><><<<<< 

“Sure you’re okay?”

Peter nodded, cheerfully.

“Yeah.” He grinned when the car pulled up and stopped at the curb. The doorman of the apartment building opened the back door and Tony ushered Peter carefully into the seat. “Hey, Happy.”

The normally dour man smiled, turning around to look at him instead of catching his gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Hi, Peter. How are you feeling?”

“Good, thanks.”

“Does your doctor know you’re making a break for it?”

The boy smiled.

“Mr. Stark called her before he agreed to let me come to work with him.”

“I’m glad to see you.”

He noticed that they were ready, and cut the conversation short since another car was behind him waiting to pick up a passenger, and as usual, he was silent during the drive – concentrating was the way he put it, although Peter was sure he just didn’t care for small talk.

Tony had pulled out his tablet and wasn't trying to make any conversation, either, but Peter wasn't worried about that. Instead, he remembered that May had said to call his science teacher, and a quick look at his watch told him the man might be in between the first two classes, so he might be able to catch him.

It was a short conversation, but one that left Peter grinning, excitedly, and had pulled Tony’s attention from his work and even made Happy ask a question or two once he was off the phone. The car pulled up to the curb of the tower and the doorman hurried over to open the back door, waiting for Stark to exit the car before greeting the boy, cheerfully.

“Hey, Peter. Need a hand?”

“Hi, Vernon. Please?”

The doorman offered Peter a supporting _shoulder_ , actually, while he levered himself carefully out of the backseat, and then hovered a little, uncertain if he needed anything else by way of assistance.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

They didn’t move at Tony’s usual brisk pace as they entered the lobby. That, of course, was _Peter’s_ fault, since they were held to his slow, measured, shuffle.

“You don’t have to wait for me, Mr. Stark,” Peter told him, falling back into their formal mode of address while around others. “I can catch up.”

“It’s fine,” Tony told him. “We’re not in any hurry.”

It was a good thing.

Peter was a popular guy with the people who worked in the support roles at the tower. The receptionists liked him and all of them stopped him to ask how he was and to bestow gentle hugs of welcome and there was even a motherly kiss on his temple from one. He smiled, happy to be out of bed, and genuinely pleased at being around them all. Stark barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes at the way his intern was being made much of, but he didn’t stop the greetings because he could see that Peter was enjoying the attention, and he wanted the boy happy.

It was probably those big brown eyes of his.

The small crowd at the elevator consisted of a few people who were also familiar with Peter, one of the engineers the boy had assisted, and a couple of secretaries. They, too, stopped to say hello and ask about his health, and Peter was assuring them that he was doing much better, and would probably be back soon – if the doctor agreed – when the door opened and Stark ushered him inside. No one else followed, electing to wait for the next.

The boy grinned at him.

“I miss this place.”

“Don’t be in a hurry to get back,” Tony told him, smiling in response to the boy’s happiness. “The other _interns_ probably still hate you.”

“True.”

They stopped on the executive floor and Tony held the door open while Peter got out. The two of them turned right and walked down the hallway and stopped in front of Pepper’s office. Tony knocked – it was the only door he knocked on in the entire building – and winked at Peter when he heard her tell them to come in.

“Wait here.”

“Okay.”

Stark walked into her office, leaving Peter just out of sight. Pepper was sitting at her desk, with one of her personal assistants discussing an upcoming meeting. She looked over at Tony, though.

“Did you leave him alone, _again_?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, amused. “How was dinner?”

“You missed a culinary masterpiece.”

“Really?”

“Well, no. It had a few miscues. Not bad for a beginner, though.”

“You don’t look like you suffered for the experience.”

“I didn’t.”

“If you keep leaving him alone, he’s going to feel abandoned.”

“Who says I left him alone? Peter?”

The boy walked into the office and Pepper smiled, surprised. She gave Tony a look, standing up and glad to see the boy on his feet.

“Peter...”

”Hi, Miss Potts.”

Pepper crossed her office, meeting him part way and hugged him, carefully, pressing a kiss against his cheek as she led him over to a chair next to her desk and told him to sit down.

“How are you doing?” she asked. “Are you supposed to be out of bed?”

“I’m good.”

“He was climbing the walls,” Tony explained. “So, we’re on a field trip.”

“No pain?”

“A _little_ ,” Peter admitted. “But it’s not too bad.”

“Tell her your news,” Stark suggested.

Peter grinned; his expression going from cheerful to excited.

“My science teacher forwarded my dark matter paper to a friend of his, who is a theoretical physicist. He read it and suggested that I publish it.”

“Really?” She looked at Tony, who preened.

“My _intern_ is going to be published at 16 and might win a Nobel before he needs to shave.”

There was no doubt that he was proud of the boy, and that made Pepper smile.

“He’s _fifteen_ , Tony,” she reminded him.

“I _know_ that. But it takes a while to publish. And then there are facts to check, and resources to look through. He’ll be sixteen before it’s all said and done. Still an accomplishment, though.”

“Mr. Stark helped me with paper, though,” Peter reminded her. “So, his name will be on it, too. There won’t be a Nobel, but it’s still exciting.”

“Yes, it is,” Pepper agreed. “I’m proud of you.”

The boy blushed.

“Thanks.”

“He’ll work on it during his spare time, here,” Stark told Pepper. “Once he’s cleared, medically. That way he has access to source material. We might need to assign an _intern_ to him, once he gets up and running.”

She raised an eyebrow, and Peter smiled at the ridiculousness of the statement.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Mr. Stark.”

An intern _with_ an intern? If the others disliked him, now, they’d _hate_ him for sure if that were to happen.

“We’ll see.”

Pepper smiled at Peter, her expression and cheerful wink telling the boy that she’d rein Stark in a little before any of that could happen.

“What are you guys doing, now?”

“Nothing. We just came in to get Peter out of the apartment for a little while.”

“Well, why don’t I take you both to lunch? To celebrate.”

Tony looked over at Peter.

“Well, big shot published scientist? Are you hungry?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”


	41. 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch and beyond

The restaurant was a fancy one. And it was clear that Pepper wasn't a stranger to the people that worked there. When the three of them showed up at the entrance, the manager himself came over and greeted them – he greeted Pepper by name, and looked surprised and somewhat gratified to see Tony Stark there, as well. He was polite to Peter by proxy, and ushered the three of them to a somewhat private table where he held Pepper’s chair for her, and Tony helped Peter ease himself down into the one he was offered.

“Thanks.”

“It _looks_ fancy,” Pepper told him, smiling at the way the boy was looking around, somewhat awkwardly – as if well out of his comfort zone. “But it isn’t, or I wouldn’t have brought you here. The staff is friendly and attentive and the food is really good.”

“And they have burgers and American food,” Stark added. “So you don’t have to try and guess what you’re eating.”

Peter nodded.

“It’s nice.”

The adults were given wine, Peter had a soda, and the conversation was on the paper that Peter had written. Stark pointed out to Pepper that he hadn’t done any work on it – his only function had been to make sure Peter knew how to find the sources that he was researching and had given the boy access to data that he wouldn’t have had available to him somewhere else. As such, he wasn't going to allow his name to be put on the paper.

Peter knew he wasn't _supposed_ to argue with Tony, but he couldn’t help it, this time. Fair was fair, after all.

“I wouldn’t have gotten it done without you helping me, though,” he pointed out as their lunch arrived. “So you should get credit for that.”

“You probably _would have_. Eat your burger and stop talking.”

Pepper smiled at the somewhat stern treatment of the boy, but had to admit Peter’s addition to Stark Industries seemed to be rubbing a few of Tony Stark’s rougher edges off – a _little_. Peter did as he was told, and listened as the other two switched the lunch conversation to more mundane matters of finance and stocks. Specifically, _Stark Industries_ finances and stocks. He tried to follow along with them but there were so many zeroes at the end of the numbers, he knew immediately that he was well out of his depths.

He turned his attention to his meal, but he was beginning to flag, a little. The excitement of the morning being overtaken by the fact that he wasn't quite ready for an extended outing.

Midway through a discussion about the difference between the R&D budget and the investment into a couple of branching tech giants, Potts glanced over at the boy and cut her topic off, abruptly.

“Well… we’ve _bored_ him to death,” she murmured. “Now what?”

Tony turned his attention to Peter, and couldn’t help the smile that curled the side of his mouth.

Peter was almost certainly asleep. His head was resting in his hand, with his elbow propped up on the table and his eyes closed. The other hand was still holding a French fry, but it was in danger of falling from numb fingers.

“I’d better take him home.” He reached over and tapped the boy’s shoulder. “Peter?”

Sleepy eyes opened, almost immediately, and he looked around, owlishly.

“We’re done?”

“ _You’re_ done,” Pepper agreed, amused. She looked at Stark. “Take the car. I’ll call a cab.”

“Okay.” Stark got to his feet and went to Peter’s side, carefully putting hands under the boy’s arms to help him to his feet. “Come on, Peter. You’re _drunk_ , time to go home.”

“What?”

“Tony…” her expression was reproving, but still amused.

“He’s fine,” Stark assured her. “Thank Miss Potts for lunch, Peter.”

“Thanks, Miss Potts.”

“You’re welcome.” She looked at Tony. “Do you need help with him?”

“Nah. Don’t forget, though; _you’re_ buying. I’ll check in with you later.”

Peter was starting to wake a little more, now that he was on his feet, and he didn’t really _need_ the hand Tony had on his arm as they left the restaurant and got into the car. He leaned against the back window, though, and dozed as Happy drove them back to Stark’s apartment, much to the driver’s amusement.

“Lunch was probably pushing it, huh?” Tony told him, affectionately, when he guided the boy off the elevator and into his apartment a short time later.

“Yeah,” Peter admitted. “It was _fun_ , though.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” Stark set him on his bed in the guest room and carefully eased him out of his shirt – since it wasn't a _sleeping_ shirt. He kissed Peter and then pushed him gently backward onto the bed so he could get him out of his jeans. “You _argued_ with me, though,” he reminded him, gently, pulling jeans and boxers off and setting them aside. “In front of _Pepper_ , no less. So, I’ll have to punish you for that, later.”

“Okay.”

Peter was already almost asleep, again, and clearly not concerned about his impending punishment.

Tony decided not to bother trying to get Peter into sweats. It was just the two of them the rest of the day, after all. He didn’t need clothes. He covered the boy, warmly, and leaned over and kissed him.

“I love you, Peter,” he reminded him – _again_.

“I love you, too, Tony,” the boy whispered, his voice barely audible.

Stark smiled, and pressed his face against Peter’s neck for a long moment. True, he was asleep, and probably wouldn’t even remember saying it, but he’d _said_ it. And, even more, he hadn’t argued with Tony for telling him that he loved him. It was _there_ , Tony knew. He was wearing him down and knew, now, that it was just a matter of time.

>>><<><><<<<<>>><>>>>>><<< 

It was dark outside when Peter woke, next. Warm, and comfortable, and only aching a little under the bandages that were wrapped around his torso. He stretched, silently, and felt the arm that he hadn’t noticed around him tighten, just a little. He realized that part of the reason he was warm was because Tony was tucked behind him, his body right up against Peter’s, and the aforementioned arm holding him closely. Even better, all he felt was skin against his.

“Are you awake?” came the sleepy question from behind and just a little above him.

“Yeah…”

He started to turn, but Stark’s arm held him where he was, careful not to hurt him.

“Stay like this for a minute.”

Something hard and throbbing deliciously was suddenly pressing against him from behind and Peter caught his breath when he felt it slide against his lower back.

“Hurt?” Tony asked.

“No.”

He felt his leg being lifted, just a little, opening him up, and felt Tony’s cock slide between his ass cheeks, nudging his opening, but sliding by.

“Still okay?”

“Yes.”

Stark lowered Peter’s leg, and held his hip, rocking himself against the boy, carefully. Peter groaned with pleasure at the sensation, even though there was no penetration involved at that moment.

“If I were lubed, I’d be sorely tempted to slide myself inside you,” Tony told him, his thrusts coming a little harder.

His hand, which had been on Peter’s hip, slid along the boy’s front to find his slowly awakening cock, and he began to stroke him in time to the movements of his hips.

“I _want_ you inside me…” Peter whispered, pressing back against him.

“ _Soon_ , Peter,” Stark crooned. “Not yet, though.”

His breathing was becoming harsh, though, and his motions were a little easier as copious amounts of precum was making his thrusts slicker. He was careful not to jar the boy, but his hips jerked forward and back and his hand on Peter still when he tensed and came, splattering Peter’s crack with his warm cum.

“Tony…”

“Shhh…”

Stark slid himself along the boy a few more times, enjoying the sensation of being engulfed, even though he wasn't impaling the boy like he’d have preferred, just then. He finally pulled himself away, releasing Peter, completely, and sliding off of the bed.

“What about me?” Peter asked, when Stark walked around to the other side of the bed so he could look down at the boy.

“ _You_ have to wait,” Tony told him, leaning over and kissing him. “That’s your punishment for arguing with me, earlier.”

Peter smiled, pulling him down for another shared kiss.

“You were just waiting for me to wake up so you could do that, _weren’t_ you?”

“It was much more enjoyable with you awake. Yes.”

 

 


	42. 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heart wants what the heart wants

After that, Peter couldn’t have gone back to sleep if he’d wanted to. He lazed in bed a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of being aroused even though he decided not to do anything about it himself. If it was his punishment, then he’d live with it for a while. Besides, it felt _good_. And he knew Tony wouldn’t make him ‘suffer’ for too long.

He got out of bed, though, moving carefully to the bathroom and then coming out and slipping on a pair of sweats before moving out to the living room. Tony was in the kitchen, so Peter walked over to see if he needed any help, and if he didn’t, to just keep him company. He didn’t see anything being cooked; it looked like he was just cleaning up some dishes left over from breakfast.

“How do you feel?” Stark asked, amused that there was still a bit of a tent in the boy’s pants.

“I’m okay.”

“Hungry?”

“Yes. What are you making?”

“Nothing. We’re going to order a pizza, instead.”

“Oh.”

Tony smiled and kissed the boy, hungrily, his mouth teasing Peter’s lips and then his tongue sliding along the boy’s jawline to his ear, until he felt Peter shiver with the touch.

“I don’t feel like cooking.”

Peter nodded and tilted his head, his hand going down between them and under the pants Tony was wearing. He was aroused, but not _desperately_ so, of course. Peter slid his palm along the older man, enjoying the feeling of him so intimately.

“Then don’t. I _like_ pizza.”

“How am I going to fuck you tonight without hurting you?” Stark asked, absently, sliding his hand down and covering the hand Peter had on his cock.

“It doesn’t hurt too much,” the boy assured him. “We can figure out something.”

“We’re going to _have_ to.” He reluctantly pulled away, turning Peter around and pressing against the boy’s back. Then he reached around and slid his hand along the fabric covering Peter’s erection. “Until then, though, _this_ is off limits to you. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“ _I_ , of course, get to do anything I want with it.”

Peter chuckled.

“That’s fair.”

Stark turned his head, kissing Peter’s cheek and then his neck.

“Go settle in. I’ll order the pizza.”

He did as he was told and eased himself onto the couch, feeling just a bit of a pang in his side as he did. A reminder that all was not entirely well with his world. He ignored it as much as he could. Picking up the remote, he found them a movie to watch, which never got old to him, and Tony wasn't tired of them, yet. He got it set to go and then hit the pause until Tony could come join him.

“Pepperoni,” Stark told him, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss him. "It'll be a while."

“Okay.” Peter closed his eyes, letting Tony know that he wouldn’t mind another kiss, and the older man obliged him with several butterfly kisses that trailed from his forehead to the side of his mouth.

“You know something?” Stark asked.

“Hmmm?”

“I think I might just love you.”

Peter opened his eyes, looking up at Tony, who kissed him, again.

“Tony…”

“I have to say it, Peter,” Stark told him, seriously, brushing his finger along the boy’s forehead, tracing the line that formed every time his intern frowned. “Not just when I’m inside you, or when you’ve done something that makes me weak in the knees. I can’t tell you out in public, _yet_ , but when you’re old enough, you can bet everyone else will know, too. Until then, it’s you and me – and I can’t keep it to myself.”

He stared at Stark, trying to read any sign of duplicity in the man’s expression or gaze, and he couldn’t. He probably knew Tony as well as anyone – and better than many, but he was so afraid to believe him, and put his heart out there to be stepped on, again. And yet, he couldn’t help himself. It wasn't fair for him to want Tony to love him – and to _prove_ that he loved him – when Peter was too afraid to be honest with him.

“I love you, Tony,” he whispered, closing his eyes and giving himself away, with those profoundly simple words.

Stark felt a thrill go through him, and had to tamp it down, just a little. He frowned, once more tracing that frown line on Peter’s forehead.

“You’re not supposed to say it like you’re taking a beloved pet in to be put down, Peter. It’s supposed to be a _happy_ thing.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“But…?”

“I’m afraid.”

Tony walked around the couch and came to settle beside him. He would have just jumped the back of the sofa, but that would have jarred the boy, which was what they were trying to avoid, obviously.

“Afraid I’ll hurt you?”

“Yes.”

He was being honest, after all. _In for a penny, in for a pound_ – as the phrase went.

“I’ve done _that_ , already,” Tony told him, taking the boy’s hand and bringing it to his chest, holding it next to the arc reactor. “I won’t ever do it, again. Not on purpose. It hurt me too much to see how much it hurt you.”

Peter felt his mouth go dry. And his heart race a little faster.

“But I won’t promise never to hurt your feelings,” Stark went on, sincerely. “I’m too used to not caring about others, and I’m just learning. It’s going to happen. I’m not going to promise you roses and tulips and no thorns.”

“I know.”

“We can keep the safe word thing going, though,” Stark said. “You hear something that hurts, you say your safe word. I will, too – because _you’re_ not perfect, either, mister – and as much as I love you, it’s bound to happen that you’re going to be able to hurt me, too.”

“Yeah? Have I?”

“Of _course_.” He sighed. “Every time I say I love you and you hesitate.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was understandable,” Tony told him. “But we’re beyond that now, okay? There are going to be a lot of things for you to be uncertain about, but I refuse to be one of them, understand?”

“But-“

“Are you going to _argue_ with me?” he interrupted, taking Peter’s hand from his chest and bringing it to his lips.

The boy smiled, and shook his head.

“No.”

“Good. This is _my_ internship, and _my_ rules. Got it? You do what you’re told – and that means whatever it takes to keep me in check, if it comes to that.”

“You do what you want,” Peter said.

“And _who_ I want,” Stark finished. “And that’s you, Peter Parker. You’re what I want, and you’re what makes me happy. Understand?”

“Not completely,” the boy admitted. “But I’ll _learn_ , right? That’s what an internship is for.”

Tony leaned forward and kissed him, feeling himself spring to life at the contact. He smiled against Peter’s lips and then pulled away.

“The pizza can wait a while.”

“Yes.”

He got to his feet and helped Peter up, smiling when he noticed that he wasn't the only one who was hard and eager. His hand went to the small of Peter’s back and he walked him into his bedroom.

“We’re going to go slow and careful,” he told the boy sliding his pants down and then doing the same for Peter, before helping him up onto the bed and putting him on his back. “But the minute it hurts, you stop me. Understand?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean it,” Stark told him. “I want you, but if I need to wait, I will.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Tony,” Peter told him, reaching for him. “Please.”

He did, sliding his knee between Peter’s and thinking back to the very first time he had him in this position, in this apartment, in this bed. His cock bobbed in excitement and the boy parted his legs, willingly. The kiss took their breath away, and he felt Peter’s hand slide down between them to take hold of him, stroking and caressing.

“Easy…” Tony murmured, dipping his head for another kiss and reaching for the lube. “We have time. And _you’re_ still being punished, don’t forget.”

“You won’t suck me?”

In answer, he shifted downward and drew the boy into his throat, sliding his tongue along the throbbing shaft as he pulled back to take a breath and then went back down on him. Peter sighed in pleasure and closed his eyes, his hips already moving upward, slowly. Stark took his time, just like he’d said, and it was several long minutes of bliss before the boy found himself tensing, his hands going into Tony’s hair, holding him where he was to make sure he didn’t change his mind.

A moment later, he tensed, and Stark felt it, of course. He reached out with one hand and kept Peter from moving, to avoid hurting himself, but the other hand was stroking him while he clamped his lips tight around the head of Peter’s cock just as the boy climaxed with a grunt he couldn’t bite down. Tony took him deep, moving his hand and pulling Peter deep into his throat, swallowing him in every way possible.

“Better?” Tony asked, smiling at just how satiated Peter looked when he turned his head from what he was doing to look at his young lover.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Stark shifted again, this time moving up higher on Peter to kiss him, while he draped the boy’s knees over his thighs without lifting them any more than necessary. He was also careful not to rest any of his weight on him, as one hand braced his body above Peter, while the other moved down to begin caressing his ass, sliding a well-lubed finger gently into him, and following it a long moment later with another, preparing him.

Peter held himself still – which was so hard to do under Tony’s assault, and he reached up and pulled his head down for a kiss as he felt himself being stretched and readied. He whimpered against Stark’s mouth as the man shifted over him and eased the head of his throbbing cock against him and slowly began to press his hips forward. When Tony hesitated, worried he was hurting him, Peter shook his head and moved against him, just a little, assuring him silently that he wasn't being hurt.

Tony hilted inside him and stopped, breaking the kiss and looking down at him.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter told him, breathlessly. “I’m good.”

True to his word, Stark’s movements were slow and easy as he began moving within him, pulling out and sliding back in with a patience that Peter never could have managed if the positions were reversed. He slowly made love to him, his ragged, excited breathing the only indication that he was reaching his climax more quickly than he’d anticipated. A final thrust, pushing himself deep, and he gasped, his entire being tensing as he came, his cock twitching inside Peter and filling the boy, who held tight to Tony, supporting him during the rush.

“God…” Stark bent his head and kissed him once, and then twice, and Peter sighed and went limp under him.

“That was so good.”

“Slow and steady,” Tony told him, smiling as he slid out and nestled the boy into his arms.

“It has its moments,” Peter agreed, resting his head on Tony’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. “I could do that forever.”

Stark chuckled.

“I’m glad to hear that. You’re going to get that chance, you know.”

"I'm looking forward to it."


	43. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday

The city was bright and busy below him. Even for a Wednesday. With his mask on, and the darkness surrounding him, he peered down on the streets below, occasionally moving to one side of the building or another to look the other directions, as well. He wasn't really _looking_ for trouble, though, as much as he was listening to those inner urges of his, waiting to see if he was needed somewhere.

Peter turned in time to see the Ironman suit zipping across the night sky, unerringly locating his building and coming to an easy landing only a few feet from the railing the boy was looking over. He smiled behind the mask he wore when Tony Stark discharged from the suit and walked over to him.

“Spiderman…” the man said, softly, looking over the safety railing and down at the streets below. “How fares our city?”

“Seems to be okay.”

They moved, then, into an even more shadowed, protected area, and Tony patted the railing, silently telling Peter to hop up onto it, which he did. Then he opened his knees so Stark could stand between them and rest his hands on Peter’s thighs.

“Do you feel any older?”

“Not really,” the boy admitted. “Do I _look_ any older?”

Tony pulled off the mask Peter was wearing, and smiled up at him.

“Not even a little, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, well.”

“I’m sorry I missed the party at the tower. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah. There was cake and ice cream. Balloons. The works.”

“Good. I told them to go all out, since I wouldn’t be able to be there and do it myself.”

“It was fine. I _missed_ you, though.”

Tony kissed him, a gentle kiss filled with love and tinged with anticipation.

“We’ll have all next week,” he reminded him.

Peter smiled, feeling a surge of pride and excitement. Stark had been wrong about the timeline when it came to publishing his dark matter paper. With the considerable resources of Stark Industries to draw on – and Tony, of course – along with the help of several of those scientists and engineers in the R&D section who had published their own papers in their fields and as such had plenty of knowledge to share when it came to writing the official version of the work, Peter had completed it fairly quickly.

It had been published in three prestigious physics journals, as well as Science and was being sought by several more. At fifteen, Peter was suddenly finding himself a hot commodity, and programs all around the world were clamoring for him to come check them out, to draw a commitment from him to join them once he had graduated.

May had been proud, of course, but had been reluctant to allow him to talk with any of those programs, for fear that he might make a verbal commitment without realizing it. Because of that concern, she had turned to Tony Stark for assistance keeping her nephew out of trouble. He had agreed to take Peter on the trip to talk to the folks at CERN the week after his birthday, and both were looking forward to it – even though Peter had no intention of living out of the country. Or away from New York, even.

But the trip would give him an idea of what might be in his future – as long as it included Tony Stark and Spiderman, which were both priorities to him – and it was a week for him to spend time with Tony. Just the two of them, since May had decided that she didn’t need to be there and didn’t want to take the time off from work.

“I can’t wait that long,” Peter complained, guiding Tony’s hand to his groin and watching as his mentor slid his hand along the bulge that was forming there.

“You don’t _have_ to,” Stark assured him. “I’ll see if May will let me take you Friday – to celebrate your birthday. Just the two of us.”

“Good idea.”

"We can go to the zoo."

Peter rolled his eyes, amused.

"Do you really want to risk that?"

“Probably not. You're not dumb enough to make yourself sick again, though."

"No promises."

He was young, after all. It was his job to be dumb, sometimes.

"So,” Stark said, still stroking Peter through the fabric of the outfit he was wearing – one that he had no intention of taking off just then. “What do you want for your birthday?”

It wasn't the first time that he’d been asked.

“Just you.”

“Nope. You get _that_ , too, of course,” Tony told him, kissing him, again. “But I’ll look cheap if I don’t get my only intern something amazing for his 16th birthday. My only intern who has also managed to be one of the youngest published ever at Stark Industries. You don’t want me to look _cheap_ , do you?”

“I don’t think you ever _could_ ,” Peter assured him.

“And I don’t want to start, now.”

“I could use a new desk,” Peter suggested, reaching down between them and sliding his hand into Tony’s pants, smiling at the sharp intake of breath the action elicited from his mentor. “Mine still has that broken leg.”

Stark had pinned Peter down onto it at an awkward angle in a fit of passion a week or so back and it had collapsed under their combined weight, leaving them in a tangle of lowered pants and limbs, giggling and snickering at the mess that they’d made.

“I told you to order a new one,” he reminded him, moving his hips in time to the motions of the boy’s hand on him.

“I thought _you_ could do it,” Peter told him. “I assume they make one that’s a little sturdier – for times when the boss wants to be bent over it and screwed by his intern – _you_ know more about that stuff than I do. And I obviously can’t ask _Miss Potts_ , now can I?”

Stark pulled Peter off the rail and pushed him down onto his knees, feeling the boy slide his zipper down to free the throbbing rod that he’d been playing with, and arousing so expertly. Tony closed his eyes with pleasure when he felt the warm mouth enclose him and he held onto the railing as he started thrusting his hips, lightly at first and then with more force, driving himself repeatedly, his hips jerking as he came, suddenly and explosively.

“God…”

Peter cleaned him off, and carefully tucked him back into his pants before he stood up and pulled him into his arms.

“I’m getting pretty good at that.”

“Yes, you are.” Stark kissed him, tasting himself on the boy’s lips and then held him, tightly, feeling a wave of satisfaction and happiness sweep through him. “Don’t get _too_ cocky, though. You still have a lot to learn.”

Peter smiled, resting his cheek against the older man’s chest.

“I have time.”

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! That's the story. I appreciate all feedback - again, though, it's fiction and in no way do I condone the idea of sex with a minor (although miners are okay as long as they're legal.  
> Thanks for reading


	44. any interest?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what to do?

I was thinking of making another story with these two, but I wasn't sure if there would be any interest if I do. They are exciting to write together. Ideas? thoughts? interest? 


End file.
